


Made In America

by kulina



Series: Made In America [1]
Category: Waterparks (Band)
Genre: Gen, waterparks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-19 07:32:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 212,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13699824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kulina/pseuds/kulina
Summary: Awsten Knight is the obnoxious "problem student" at Lakeview High School. Geoff Wigington, whom the students fondly refer to as Mr. W, teaches on-level English, runs the creative writing club, and has never given a single detention. Awsten is on a mission to be the first to get one.





	1. So It Goes

** Emergency Faculty Meeting  
** ** March 6, 11:52 AM **

“Look at this,” John murmured solemnly, sliding the newspaper across the table. 

“I don’t want to see it. I can’t read it again. I can’t even _think_ about it again.”

“Geoff, just look. You really need to see this.” 

Geoff sighed, dragging the paper toward himself. He looked down, and there, splashed across on the front page, taking up nearly all of the space above the fold, was a black and white picture of Geoff… and Awsten.

 

* * *

 

** Room 121  
February 17, 8:16 AM **

The classroom door flew open, and every student’s eyes slid toward the kid with purple hair carrying a coffee tray and smacking a bright pink wad of gum between his teeth. 

“Glad you could join us, Awsten,” Mr. W said softly, just like he did every morning as Awsten waltzed in after the bell had rung. 

“Ya miss me?” Awsten grinned. 

“Of course,” Mr. W truthfully replied. No one cared more about their students than Mr. Wigington, although Awsten caught him glancing wearily at the clock before he marked Awsten tardy. More than fifteen minutes late today - that would warrant some kind of punishment for sure. 

Awsten winked at his friend Alex as he made his way to his chair. “Caramel latte for Chloe,” he announced, pausing halfway through the sea of desks to pass a pretty girl a drink.

“Aw! Thanks, Awsten,” she smiled. 

“No problem. Black coffee for Alex…” He handed the cup to his friend and then put another one on his own desk. “Hot chocolate with extra whipped cream for me…” He turned around, one drink left in the tray. “Who wants an iced mocha?” 

Hands shot up, but Awsten held the Starbucks cup out to their teacher. “Mr. W?” 

“No, thank you. I’d just like to resume teaching,” he replied, but he didn’t sound angry.

Awsten ignored the shouts of, “Me, me!” and strode back up to the desk. “Here; you can have it.” He set the coffee down and tossed the tray toward the garbage from at least twelve feet away. Naturally, he missed, and he laughed loudly and jogged over to put it in.

“Recycling,” Mr. W murmured.

“What?”

“It’s cardboard. Please put it in the recycling.”

“Oh. Sure.” Awsten dumped it in the trash. 

A couple kids laughed, but most of them just stared. 

Mr. W was the only teacher in the entire high school who hadn’t given Awsten a detention yet, which meant that Awsten was on a mission to really earn it. He took his time walking to his seat and then slid into his desk.

“You didn’t bring your backpack?” Alex inquired in a whisper.

Awsten replied at normal volume. “Fuck no.”

“You want some paper?”

“Fuck no,” Awsten repeated. 

Alex snorted and shrugged one shoulder. “Alright.”

“Hey, how’s the coffee?”

“Awsten,” Mr. W warned softly. 

“Sorry!”

He wasn’t sorry, though. He talked through the rest of the period, completely ignored the discussion, and, toward the end, started bothering the kids in the row in front of him with his feet.

“Awsten,” Mr. W finally murmured, “please leave your friends alone.” 

Awsten smirked. “Kay.” 

When class finally ended, Mr. W stopped Awsten at the door and kept him until everyone had trickled out. “I understand that you are being kind, bringing treats for your friends, but it’s making you tardy, and I don’t want you to miss any information. You know that we have a quiz tomorrow, so it’s-”

“We do? Awsten interrupted. “Wait, on what?”

Mr. W gave him a patient but slightly frustrated smile. “I just spent the last fifteen minutes going over it, Awsten. You’ll have to check with one of your friends.”

Awsten did feel a little guilty about that. “Oh.” 

“Your coming in late is really a distraction to the other students, though,” Mr. W continued. “If it was solely affecting you, I wouldn’t say anything since you’re a senior; you’re responsible for yourself. But Awsten, it’s difficult for everyone to keep their focus when you come in halfway through the lesson and make everything pause. You are very self-aware, so I know that you know better than that.” 

Awsten looked down at his feet. He’d meant to _anger_ Mr. W, not _disappoint_ him… 

"I'm just letting you know that it needs to stop," Mr. W told him. “You are not in any trouble.” 

_Of course not._ “I know,” Awsten mumbled. 

“Alright. It's almost time for your next class, but remember that the quiz is tomorrow. Taylor takes good notes. If you speak with her kindly, she might just be willing to help you.” 

Awsten nodded and headed out the door.

“What did he say?” Alex asked. He’d hung back to wait, even though they didn’t have second period together. 

“That when I show up late I’m a 'distraction.'” 

Alex winced.

“Whatever. He still didn’t give me a detention.”

“Awsten…”

Something about Alex’s tone got Awsten to look at him as they navigated the hall. "What?"

“Dude, Mr. W is everybody’s favorite teacher for a reason. You know that, right?”

“Duh.” 

“So why are you trying to make him hate you?” 

_Cause all the other grown-ups do, and he doesn’t, and it’s weird._ “I don’t know.”

“Well, I kinda think you should stop,” Alex confessed. “He’s really nice, and he’s actually a good teacher. He wants you to do well even though you treat him li-”

“I don’t treat him like anything,” Awsten snapped. “Go to math. I’ll see you later.”

“Awst-”

Awsten pushed past Alex and kept walking.

 

* * *

 

** Teacher’s Lounge  
February 17, 9:02 AM **

“How was your first period? Was Grapes late again?”

“As always,” Geoff sighed. He wasn’t usually one to offer up information, but Awsten’s behavior had been growing stranger and stranger, so he added, “Do you recall me telling you that he brings coffee in for the other students sometimes?”

“Yeah.”

“He brought one for me today, as well.”

John laughed. “You think he might be trying to butter you up? Keep out of trouble?”

“I don’t think so,” Geoff responded truthfully. He toyed with the loose rubber band between his fingers. “He seemed the same as always.”

“Crazy,” John supplied.

Geoff shrugged.

“You’re giving them the Slaughterhouse-Five quiz tomorrow, right?”

Geoff hummed, absently stirring his coffee. “Yes, I am. I did a review at the end of the period to let them ask questions, and afterward, I called Awsten back to have a conversation with me.”

“You what?” John asked incredulously.

“While we were speaking, I mentioned the quiz, and he said, ‘We have a quiz? On what?’" Geoff shook his head. "I thought I might just topple over.”

“I can’t believe you talked to him after class!” John exclaimed.

“Why do you look so pleased about that?”

“Because! You’re taking a stand!”

“I’m not taking a stand,” Geoff huffed. “I was reminding him that there are other children in the class, too, and that he needs to be considerate of th-”

“You  _are!”_  John crowed. “You’re taking a stand! Hell yeah, man.” He punched Geoff amiably in the shoulder. “I’m so proud of you. He needs it.”

“He’s a good kid.”

John barked a laugh. “Right. And I’m a sexy French girl.”

“That's disgusting,” Geoff shot back with a smile.

 

* * *

 

 **Room 121  
** ** February 18, 8:04 AM **

“Ah, just in time. Glad you could join us,” Mr. W noted to Awsten. “Please take a seat.”

Oh, fuck. As soon as Awsten left Mr. W's room yesterday, he had forgotten all about the quiz. He wasn’t even sure what book he was supposed to have read.

As he headed to the back row, trying to decide whether or not he cared that he was definitely going to bomb this, Mr. W started passing out papers.

“If you have any questions, raise your hand and I’ll come to you. Just relax, take your time, and remember - nothing on this quiz is intended to trick you. I know all of you are going to do very well.”

Awsten kept his eyes cast down as Mr. W spoke; he knew that the encouragement and pep talk didn’t apply to him. God, he hated getting like this. It didn’t even make sense. He was supposed to not care that he would fail. That’s what everyone else thought, but there was no denying that it sucked getting Ds and Fs back on all his papers. He wished he would have tried. But he also knew that come next test, he’d probably be in exactly the same boat.

Michael handed Awsten the last quiz from the stack Mr. W had given the row, and Awsten scribbled his name in the top corner.

1\. On the last page of chapter one, Vonnegut writes that his book is  
          a. a success  
          b. a failure

2\. What is the nickname that Weary comes up with for himself and the group?  
          a. The Three Musketeers  
          b. The Protectors  
          c. Alpha Team

3\. What title does the narrator agree to call his novel to appease Bernard V. O'Hare's wife Mary O'Hare?

          a. My Time in the War  
          b. To Dresden and Back  
          c. The Children's Crusade  
          d. Slaughterhouse-Five

4\. Which of the following phrases is repeated throughout the novel?  
          a. What will be will be  
          b. Breathe in, breathe out  
          c. Everything will be alright  
          d. So it goes

5\. Which best describes the Tralfamadorians’ appearance?  
          a. They are invisible to Billy, and he can only sense their presence  
          b. Thin, grey men with fly-like eyes  
          c. Shiny, silver, mechanical-looking creatures  
          d. Two feet high, green, and shaped like plungers

Awsten stopped reading at that point and dropped his head into his hands. Goddamn it. He didn’t know fucking any of this. He wasn’t about to try to cheat, though; that would get him far more than detention, and he’d never forgive himself if he got Alex in trouble, too.

Awsten took several deep breaths and tried to tune out the sound of pencils scratching on paper. It was so quiet in the room that he could hear the clock ticking overhead. When he glanced up, Mr. W was staring right at him with a concerned expression on his face, so Awsten quickly looked back down and started re-reading the questions on the test.

 

* * *

 

 **Room 121**  
**February 18, 4:39 PM**

Geoff pursed his lips as he looked down at Awsten’s paper. He’d saved it for last, which probably hadn’t been a good idea, because Geoff had a feeling that he’d be left with a sour taste in his mouth. If the boy’s unusually quiet, closed demeanor as he exited the classroom was any indication of how the exam went, this was not going to be good. Geoff hoped his green pen wouldn’t run out of ink. (He never graded in red.)

Question one: wrong.  
  
Two: wrong.

Three: wrong.

Geoff breezed through the pages, marking nearly every answer incorrect. He dreaded turning the packet over to the free response section. The rest of the class had done exceptionally well - all As and one B - but Geoff had a strong suspicion that Awsten hadn’t even cracked open the book.

The first open-ended question read, “The colors of the banners flying on the POW train and the colors of the tent set up for Billy's daughter's wedding are orange and black. What is the significance of these colors in the novel?”

Awsten had doodled a little jack-o-lantern, a lollipop, and a few pieces of candy corn in lieu of a response. Geoff drew a line through the art and, since the second one had been left entirely blank, moved on to the final question. 

“Briefly discuss the paradox of free will and predestination. In the novel, is anyone able to exercise free will, or are all things pre-determined? How do you think Kilgore Trout would answer this question?”

Awsten’s only response was a small, “I’m sorry.”

Geoff rubbed a hand over his forehead and turned in his chair so he could face the computer. He jiggled the mouse, bringing the monitor to life, and reluctantly composed an email to the counselor.

 

* * *

 

** Room 121  
February 19, 8:03 AM **

“HEY,” Awsten half-shouted, bursting into the classroom.

Mr. W looked up at him, surprised that one, he was relatively early, and two, he’d taken that tone so early in the morning. “Awsten?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

The class went dead silent, and every eye was trained on either Awsten or Mr. Wigington.

Mr. W slowly set down the book he’d been holding. He asked calmly, “Excuse me?”

Awsten crossed his arms tightly over his chest. “You know what you did. Why the hell-”

“Awsten, take a breath, please. Do not speak to me like that." 

“No! You told the fucking counselor about me?!”

“I would be happy to discuss that with you after class, but this is inappropriate. If this conversation is going to continue, you need to choose your words more carefully-"

“No, I’m not waiting til after class! I want answers  _now._  Why the fuck would you do that to me?”

Alex stood up hesitantly, unsure what exactly was going on but wanting to calm his friend before things got out of hand. “Aws...”

Awsten’s head whipped toward him, and Alex was shocked by the wild look in Awsten’s eyes. “He wrote to Miss Harrison about my quiz,” he spat, “and she sent me an email this morning and copied my parents on it. My  _parents_ , Alex.”

Alex swallowed, suddenly understanding the outburst. Quietly, he began, “Do you need to go to th-”

“No. I want this piece of shit to explain what the fuck he was thinking,” he snapped, cutting Alex off and whirling back around to face Mr. W.

There was a collective gasp from the class, and Mr. W said evenly, “Awsten. Detention.”

Awsten flung his hands into the air. “Are you fucking kidding me? Oh my god,  _now_  you give me detention?”

“That’s two detentions. Would you like to keep going?”

Awsten blew out a breath and turned on his heel, stalking back out and slamming the door.

 

* * *

 

** The Hallway Outside Room 215  
February 19, 8:58 AM **

Geoff had been on the way to the office to report the incident with Awsten before one of the students - or, god forbid, one of their parents - could, but he paused outside a classroom door when he overheard Alex mention Awsten’s name.

_“What?”_

“Yeah. And then he said all calm that he hopes none of us ever talk to our teachers like that, and then he went back to talking about the new book like nothing even happened.”

“And Awsten never came back?” Otto asked worriedly.

Geoff figured that Alex must have shaken his head.

“Shit."

There was a beat, and then Alex wondered timidly, "Do you think he’s gonna be in band later?”

Otto sighed. “Honestly, no, I don’t think so."

"I texted him a couple times, and I even called and left a message, but he’s not answering.  You think he went to his spot?”

“Yeah. He doesn't have anywhere else to go right now.”

The pair fell quiet for a moment, each lost in thought. Then Alex muttered, “I hope he’s okay.”

As bad as that morning had been, Geoff hoped so, too. Students never acted out the way Awsten had unless there was something bigger going on.  Geoff dragged himself to the front office, knowing that whatever was going on with Awsten… well, he was about to make it worse.

* * *

 

 **The Lake**  
** February 19, 9:06 AM **

Awsten angrily fired a pebble into the water, finally looking up from his knees. He brushed off his calves, which were drawn up against his body as he sat in the grass, and stared at the ripples he'd created. Fucking suburbia. He wished he hated it as much as he was supposed to, but he didn’t. It had always been comforting, not too much of one thing or another.

This morning, on the other hand, had been too much of everything. How was Awsten ever supposed to go back to Lakeview High after that?

He’d rushed to school, cursed Mr. W out in front of the entire class, and sped all the way to the lake. Yeah. Even if they didn’t suspend him, he was never going back. Whatever the school would do to him was nothing compared to the punishment he'd receive from his parents if they found out what had happened. He should probably just end everything right now. It wasn't like anybody would really care anyway except Alex and Otto, but they had other friends. There was no way Mr. W would ever want to lay eyes on him again.

_Congratulations, Awsten. You got exactly what you wanted._

Desperate for a distraction, Awsten turned over his phone; the screen was a little wet from the grass, so he wiped it off on the bottom of his shirt before he scanned his notifications. A bunch of worried texts, missed calls, and voicemails from both Alex and Otto, and two missed calls from… Why did Awsten recognize that number?

“Two two one four…” he read aloud, and then he groaned. “Fuck!” That was the school. And if they were calling him… They’d definitely called his parents, too. 

Hopelessly, frustratedly, furiously, Awsten smashed a fist into the grass.

 

* * *

 

** Room 121  
February 19, 3:47 PM **

Geoff’s phone buzzed. He looked down and saw Annie Harrison’s name stamped across the screen, but he had a circle of kids gathered in his room for Creative Writing Club, so he silenced it instead of answering. None of the students looked up from their papers. Geoff couldn’t help but give them a fond smile; he loved how lost they all got in their passion.

The phone automatically sent the counselor's call to voicemail, and it soon lit up with a message notification. Geoff turned the volume down to the lowest setting and lifted to the phone to his ear.

“Hey, Geoff, it’s Annie. I know you had given Awsten Knight a detention for today, and I’ve spoken with the front office - they explained what happened this morning. Awsten was marked absent from all of his classes today, and he didn’t show up for detention, either.” She sighed. “I’m not sure what’s going on with him, but, um. I just wanted to give you an update. Feel free to call me back. Alright. Bye.”

Geoff set the phone back on his desk and composed another email to her instead.

 _Annie-_  
_I have students in my room so I cannot call back right now, but I wanted to tell you that I overheard some of Awsten’s friends talking today. They mentioned that he was not responding when they reached out, and they seemed worried._  
_Is there something I should do?_  
_GW_

The response came just moments later.

_Hi Geoff,_  
_Thank you for sharing that with me. Unless we have explicit knowledge that he’s in immediate danger, no, we’ll just have to wait until tomorrow and see what happens.  
_ _Annie Harrison, LPC_

But the next day, Awsten was nowhere to be found. Geoff wanted to believe that the boy had just been trying to avoid his consequence, but Awsten had spent enough time carrying around detention slips to know that the system didn’t work like that. The punishment would still be waiting for him when he returned to school.

Alex grew visibly worried when Awsten didn’t come strutting into first period after five minutes. Or ten. Or thirty.

Geoff called him over to his desk at the end of class. “Alex, are you alright?”

He nodded distractedly.

“You look anxious,” Geoff told him softly.

Alex bit his lip and tugged on one of the straps of his backpack.

Geoff dropped his voice. “I noticed you staring at the door the whole period,” he admitted gently.

“Um, yeah. We… none of us heard from Awsten after he left yesterday.”

“All day?”

“Yeah. Not this morning, either.”

That didn’t sound good.

“Is he in, like, a lot of trouble?” Alex pressed. “For what he said to you? Cause he’s…” Alex trailed off, looking like he was trying to figure out how much to say. “He doesn’t like to get in trouble.”

Geoff raised his eyebrows. Awsten had detention nearly every day.

“Real trouble,” Alex clarified.

As if detention didn’t count as real trouble.

“You know, stuff they write home about. That’s - that’s why he was all crazy yesterday. I know he shouldn’t have said all that stuff to you, but I promise he’s really sorry. He’s just scared.”

“Scared? Of what?”

Alex faltered. “Um, I told you. He doesn’t like to get in trouble.”

Geoff nodded, watching Alex carefully. “Well, please let me know if you hear from him, yes?”

“Yeah. I will.”

“Alright.” Geoff watched Alex retreat, but he couldn’t let him go when he was so stressed and upset. “And Alex?”

The boy turned. 

“If you need anything, or your friends need anything - someone to talk to, a place to spend time - my door is open. Always.”

Alex fumbled with his fingers and looked down at the floor. “I…” He swallowed. “His parents are really awful.”

“Awsten’s?”

Alex nodded.

Geoff hadn't meant right that moment, but he was more than glad that Alex had decided to open up to him. “Come here,” Geoff instructed, getting up and motioning to two desks in the front row. The pair sat side by side, and Alex let his backpack fall off his shoulder and onto the ground.

“I know I haven't been in Lakeview too long, but - wait, um, won’t someone come in?”

Geoff shook his head. “This is my free period.”

“Oh, okay. Um, well yeah, just. His parents aren’t great.”

“What do you mean?”

Alex shrugged. “They’re not nice. I don’t know. He can do whatever he wants whenever he wants because they don't care about him. That's why he doesn't care that he gets bad grades and he's in detention all the time and he's constantly in trouble or whatever, they’re just - they don't even talk to him. Unless they're yelling at him, I guess.”

Geoff nodded to show he was listening.

“He’s dealing with stuff already, you know? I-” He huffed a quiet laugh. “I think all my friends are. And it sucks, but… but it doesn’t m… I don’t know.” Alex looked up at Geoff, his eyes pleading. “I mean, what do we do? I’m getting scared he did something.”

“What do you mean, ‘did something’?”

“Like, to himself,” Alex explained quietly. “It’s not like him to not answer his texts.”

“Shall we call Miss Harrison?” Geoff asked urgently, starting to stand up.

“N-no!” Alex quickly replied. “No, don’t.”

“Alex, you know him far better than I do. If you believe there’s even a chance-”

“There’s not,” he rushed out. “I’m overreacting. I’m-” He stood back up and shouldered his bag. “It’s fine - I’m sure he’s fine. He’s probably just… sleeping. It’s still really early. Um. I’m-”

“Alex, wait.”

“No, I’ve got to get to stat. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“I’m glad you did,” Geoff responded honestly. “Here, let me write you a pass."

"No, I-"

"Alex," Geoff murmured, his tone firm. "Just in case, alright?”

The boy paused and then nodded.

“I meant what I said,” Geoff told him as he got a piece of paper from the top drawer of his desk. “If you need anything, I am available. And if you decide you'd like for me to call someone, all you need to do is tell me.”

Alex nodded again. “Thanks.” He gave Mr. W a tiny smile. “You’re the best.”

 

* * *

 

 ** Awsten's Room  
** ** February 20, 10:23 AM **  

Awsten woke up to sun streaming through the blinds, not surprised that neither his mother nor father had come flying into his room to tell him off for oversleeping. He reached for his phone; the numbers on the screen declared that it was past 10 AM. Although he had several more texts and missed calls, he set the phone back down without reading them.

 

 

 

He thought he would feel better. That’s what was supposed to happen, right? You go to sleep, and you wake up the next morning, and then your problems don’t seem so overwhelming. Plus, he even got the saving grace of his parents leaving for... whatever they were doing, and not caring (or, more likely, not even noticing) that Awsten’s bike was still propped up by the front door. But he didn’t feel better.

Somehow, he felt worse.

Awsten swallowed and dialed Alex, just needing to hear a voice in his ear. He felt so alone. The phone rang and rang, but there was no answer.

No, come on… Alex, come on…

Awsten tried again.

Nothing.  _Fuck._

He had quickly worked himself up, so he called Otto. The phone only rang twice before it picked up.

“-s an emergency, I’m sorry.” Otto was pleading, far away from the line, and then into the receiver he said soothingly, “Hey. I’m here. I’m here.”

A door shut, and Awsten exhaled a heavy breath of relief.  _“Hey.”_

“Hey. Aws, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just woke up.”  _But my heart is pounding and I feel like I’m gonna throw up and I hate myself and I kind of want to die._

“Are you really okay? Alex told me what happened with Mr. W, and everyone's talking about it…”

“I just wanted to hear your voice,” Awsten whispered.

Otto let out a soft sigh, and Awsten could visualize exactly the sad, worried expression he was wearing. “This is my voice,” Otto responded, trying to force a smile.

There was a pause. Otto didn’t know what was going on, and Awsten wasn’t feeling up to talking, and he was about to apologize and hang up when Otto spoke.

“We really miss you at school. It’s not the same without you here.”

“Right,” Awsten replied sarcastically.

“It’s not,” Otto insisted. “Nobody’s smiling as much. There’s nothing to make anybody laugh. It’s kinda… boring.”

Awsten couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like at Lakeview if he’d died, not just that he was avoiding everybody.

“So, um... are you coming back soon?”

Awsten huffed. “I don’t know, Otto,” he responded shortly.

“Why not?”

Awsten turned over in bed to stare up at the ceiling. “I yelled at a teacher, dude. I called him a piece of shit, and I said 'fuck' a bunch of times. You think they’re just gonna let me back in? No." He rubbed his temple. "It’s not like I’m missing anything anyway. School fucking sucks.”

"You really called him a piece of shit?" Otto asked gravely. "I was kinda hoping Alex was just exaggerating. Or that it was just a rumor."

"Yeah, I really called him a piece of shit."

"Fuck," he whispered.

"I know."

“Well... we’re all worried about you.”

Awsten scoffed. “Don’t lie to me.”

“Awsten, I’m not.”

“You and Alex, maybe. Nobody else cares.”

“That’s not true. Word got around about what happened, and everybody’s asking where you are and if you got expelled and shit. And it’s more clear than ever that everybody likes you. Dude,  _everybody_  likes you. Just cause you’re not best friends with them doesn’t mean th-”

“Yeah,” Awsten interrupted flatly, not really in the mood to hear it.

“And Mr. W.”

Awsten’s stomach sank. God, every time he thought of the disappointed look on Mr. W’s face, he felt sick. He couldn’t go more than a few seconds without being reminded of what happened, but Mr. W had deserved being yelled at. Awsten was going to get his ass whipped, and it was all Mr. W's fault.

“What about him?” Awsten snapped.  


“He’s really worried about you. Alex said he’s been asking about you.”

“Well, he should stop.”

Otto sighed. “Awsten…”

“Sorry,” Awsten murmured.

“No, it’s okay. Just… Man, please come back to school.”

“I’ll think about it,” Awsten lied.

An awkward beat passed.

“Um, are you okay?”

Awsten lied again. “Yeah.”

"Like, did your parents, um..."

"I haven't seen them."

“Okay, good. That's good."

"Yeah."

"Um, but look, Mrs. Anderson really didn’t want me taking this call, so I gotta get back-”

“Yeah. No problem.”

“Text me, okay?” Otto pleaded. “Just like… keep me updated and let me know you’re okay.”

“Sure.”

“I’ll see you later, dude. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

“Alright. Bye.”

“Bye.”

Awsten sighed and tossed the phone aside. He opened his nightstand and longingly eyed the off-brand allergy medicine inside, but he’d slept for long enough. If he went back to bed now, he’d never be able to sleep tonight. Besides, he had the house to himself. Maybe he could work on some music stuff. Yeah. That could be good, make him feel better. He pulled himself out of bed and opted to take a shower before he got too lost at his keyboard and used up the whole day.

As he let the hot water cascade down his skin and squeezed sickly-sweet shampoo out of a red and black bottle, he reflected (for the thousandth time) on Mr. W and the surprised look on his face when Awsten had screamed at him. 

“Fuck,” Awsten muttered.  He was never going to make it out of this.

 

* * *

 

** Miss Harrison’s Office  
February 21, 9:06 AM **

On Friday, Awsten skipped first period to avoid Mr. W, but Miss Harrison removed him from his second class and brought him to her office as soon as she caught word of the fact that he'd signed in. 

“Awsten, I’m so glad to see you back at school,” Miss Harrison told him with a smile.

Awsten laughed. “Did you miss me?” he teased.

“We did,” she responded seriously, but Awsten wasn’t about to fall for that counselor bullshit. She  _had_  to say that.

“I wanted to check in with you, see how everything has been going. Some of your teachers and friends have contacted me; they’ve been concerned about you and your well-being.”

Awsten grinned and smacked his bubble gum - bubble gum he wasn’t allowed to be chewing. “I’m great.” He glanced around animatedly; despite being in trouble so often, Awsten had only spent a handful of minutes in the counselor’s office - because he seemed so happy and carefree, he supposed.

“Awsten, this is a safe place, hon. You can say whatever you need to here, and I can’t repeat it.”

She was looking at him like he was about to have some breakdown, like he was on the brink of erupting into a puddle of tears, like she'd start foaming at the mouth if she got the opportunity to pass him a box of tissues. Fucking hell. He wasn't about to give her that satisfaction.

Awsten shrugged. “Nothing to say.”

“Then let’s talk about what happened with Mr. Wigington.”

“What do you wanna know?” he asked, leaning forward like he was willing to tell her anything.

“Whatever you would like to share.”

“Nothing,” Awsten replied frankly.

“Well, why did you get so angry with him?”

Awsten shrugged. “Overreaction."

“Hmm,” Miss Harrison said. “And why haven’t you been at school?”

“I was puking,” he lied.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she replied evenly. It was plain to see that she didn’t believe him.

“So, then, uh. I don’t wanna be rude, but… are we done here?”

Miss Harrison raised her eyebrows. “No, Awsten, we are not ‘done here.’ We still have some things to discuss.”

“Oh yeah?” he grinned. “Like what?” He made a big show of getting comfortable on the couch.

“Like the fact that swearing at teachers is unacceptable. And swearing at teachers in front of a room full of your classmates is even less acceptable.”

“Won’t happen again,” he replied brightly.

“And skipping school is not appropriate, either.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

“Awsten, stop smiling like that.”

“Like what? You don’t want me to smile?”

“I want you to take what I’m saying seriously. The administration is considering your punishment, and-”

“My punishment?” he echoed. “I already got detention twice.”

“Well, it’s likely you’ll be suspended.”

He laughed blandly. “Fuck. Just my luck, right?”

“Language, please,” she chastised sharply.

He widened his eyes in mock-innocence. “What about it?”

“Awsten, I’m not playing games with you.”

“Games? Who’s playing games? I just wanted to go back to class, that’s all.”

She sighed. “Awsten…”

“Annie,” he smirked.

Her eyes snapped to his. “Awsten, talk to me about your parents. What are they like?”

“Nah, I don’t wanna talk about them,” he responded, pulling his legs up onto the couch so he could lie on his side.

“Why not?”

“Well, why don’t you tell me about  _your_  parents,” he deadpanned. “What are they like?”

“Awsten, I’m trying to help you.”

“Maybe _I’m_ trying to help  _you_. Hey, do you do art?”

“I like to paint. Why?”

“Can you draw?”

“I suppose.”

He pulled one of his arms up over his head. “Would you draw me like one of your French girls?” he teased.

“Aaand you’re done,” she said tonelessly, standing up and ushering him toward the door. “When you decide you can be mature, come back. I’d love to get to know you better.”

“That’ll never happen,” he laughed.

 

* * *

 

** Room 121  
February 21, 3:29 PM **

Geoff had a new email in his inbox from Annie Harrison with a subject line that read, “A.K. Update.” He quickly double clicked on it and scanned the message.

_Hi, everyone,_  
_After my meeting with Awsten today, it has become glaringly clear that he should be moved to another senior English class. He refused to discuss (or even acknowledge) what happened on Wednesday and instead continued to act out._  
_I have attempted to get in touch with his parents multiple times but have not gotten a response. I may have to contact DFCS if this continues._  
_Thanks,  
Annie Harrison, LPC_

Geoff winced. Refusing to discuss what happened? Changing classes? Reaching out to DFCS?!

Geoff was disappointed; he hoped Awsten wouldn’t view the change as Geoff giving up on him or that he would think Geoff had asked for Awsten to be removed. Truth be told, Geoff's anger had dissipated. He was just worried.

But little did he know, things with Awsten were about to get worse. Much, much worse.


	2. The Rabbits

**The Hallway Outside Room 121**  
**February 24, 6:54 AM**

Geoff had a large mug of tea in one hand and his keys and briefcase in the other as he strode into school. He didn't ever mind Mondays because he always looked forward to teaching, but he'd spent all weekend specifically looking forward to his class of seniors. Every year, this unit was his favorite to teach and, without fail, to grade. 

He had also been wondering all weekend about Awsten and whether he was alright, but like Annie had said, there was nothing they could do. They’d just have to wait and see what happened. Hopefully, the change to Mr. O'Callaghan's class would be to Awsten’s advantage. Although Geoff wouldn’t miss the constant interruption, he would miss Awsten’s radiance. 

Just as that thought crossed his mind, his eyes drifted to a figure huddled by his classroom door. The hallway lights were still off, and it was too early for Geoff to want to turn them on, but now he was wishing that he had.  “Hello?” he called.

The figure jumped slightly at the sound and slowly got to its feet. As Geoff grew closer, it remained hunched over with its arms wrapped around itself as though it were trying to hold itself together.

Geoff’s eyebrows rose as he was able to make out a shadowy face and a tuft of purple hair. “Awsten?” Geoff asked in surprise. “What are you doing here so early?”

Awsten kept his head down and didn’t speak.

“Would you like to come in?” 

Without looking up, he nodded. 

“Alright. One moment.” Geoff juggled the tea and the briefcase while he located the right key on his ring. After he opened the door, he flipped one classroom light on and tried not to watch as Awsten made a beeline for a desk in the front row. 

That was a bit odd, actually; Awsten usually sat in the very back.

Geoff set his things down by his computer and glanced at Awsten again, who had now crossed his arms on the desk and buried his head in them. It occurred to Geoff as he looked at his student that not only had Awsten chosen a seat in the front, but he’d actually chosen the one closest to Geoff’s desk.

“Awsten, are you alright?” Geoff inquired cautiously. 

No response.

“Alright. Please let me know if you would like to talk. I will listen.” Geoff draped his coat over the back of the rolling chair and then started to go through the papers in his briefcase. Several minutes of quiet passed, with just the sounds of the air conditioner and sometimes Geoff’s keyboard breaking the silence. Then Geoff slid his elbow across the desk and accidentally knocked a stapler onto the floor with a loud _snap_. The contraption flew open, and little metal staples scattered everywhere. Geoff smiled and looked up to apologize to Awsten for the sound, but he froze. 

Awsten had looked up, too, to identify the source of the noise, and now that the pair was in the light and Awsten was no longer tilted away from him, Geoff could plainly see the massive, purple bruise that was blooming across Awsten’s skin. His eye was swollen more than halfway shut. 

“Awsten,” Geoff breathed. 

Awsten quickly looked away, but it was too late. Geoff had seen everything, and he was out of his chair and making his way over.

“Awsten, what on earth happened?”

“Don’t,” Awsten bit, holding up a hand to keep Geoff at bay. 

Geoff put his hands up as well. “I won't touch you,” he murmured. “I’m - I’ve been extremely worried about you, and now-"

“Well, don’t waste your time,” Awsten spat. “I’m fine.”

“Awsten, you are _not_ fine,” Geoff gently protested.

“I’m fine!” he half-yelled, and frustrated tears immediately flooded his eyes. He scowled and stubbornly swiped at them. “Just don’t tell Miss Harrison, okay?” 

“Legally, I'm required t-”

“I know, I mean don’t tell her yet. Please. I just… I just wanna stay here.” 

Awsten sounded like a child.

A _child._

Suddenly, all the pieces Geoff had been trying to mash together clicked into place. Awsten’s incessant acting out, the lack of care about schoolwork, the disregard for respect, the dislike of authority, Alex noting that Awsten didn’t like to get into “stuff they write home about,” the outburst after the email that was sent to his parents… This was why. It was quite literally written all over his face.

“Please,” Awsten whispered.  
  
Geoff suddenly realized that he’d been staring without speaking. “Of course, Awsten. Of course you can stay.”

Awsten nodded, his face crumbling as he melted into tears. “Thank you,” he choked. 

Geoff slipped into the chair beside his and pulled it closer so he could rest a hand on Awsten’s back. His hoodie felt cold. “You’re safe now,” Geoff told him quietly, but that only made him cry harder. 

Geoff felt helpless, listening to his student sob without offering up any explanation other than the marks on his skin. But he wasn’t shying away from Geoff’s hand, and Awsten had asked to stay in the room, which meant that just being near Geoff was a source of comfort for Awsten. That was good, right?

A few seconds passed, and Awsten slowly sat up and sniffled, tugging his hood down off of his head. He wiped at his eyes, careful of the terribly bruised right one, and said weakly to Geoff, “I’m really sorry for what I called you. I didn’t mean it.”

“I know,” Geoff assured him. “I was aware that something else was going on with you.” 

“I’m really sorry, Mr. W,” Awsten repeated. “I know you didn’t want to see me today, but I just-”

“Why wouldn’t I want to see you?” Mr. W asked, his eyebrows creasing in concern. “Awsten, I always want to see you.” 

Awsten laughed emptily. 

“You are very important to me.” 

“Okay.”

“Awsten, look at me.”

Awsten reluctantly obeyed.

“All of my students are important to me, but you are one of the ones I think about the most. Do you know that?”

“Cause I’m so bad,” he muttered, looking away.

Geoff gently took hold of his forearm. “No, because you make it impossible not to. You have so much personality. There are many times you make me want to laugh, but I’m the teacher, so I have to stop myself. You are very bright and full of love, Awsten. It’s impossible to miss that.” Geoff sighed. “You’re not a bad kid. Disruptive, maybe,” Geoff smiled, “but not bad. You’re a wonderful friend. I saw you that day you invited that freshman who was alone to sit with you.” 

Awsten shifted, embarrassed. “That was nothing.” 

“No, it wasn’t. Emily is in creative writing club, and she wrote about that afternoon two weeks in a row. It wasn’t nothing.” 

Awsten looked up at Geoff. “Really?”

“Yes. You made a big difference to her. Her friends had ostracized her, and she didn’t know why, and you brightened her day. Her month, really.” 

Awsten gazed down at the desk, suddenly gloomy again. “I don’t want to talk anymore,” he murmured. 

Geoff studied at him for a moment, wondering what had triggered the shutdown. “Alright.” Geoff returned to his desk and glanced at the time. It was a few minutes past 7 AM, and he had an idea. 

Awsten was back to being buried in his sweatshirt. The hood was up again, and he had retracted his hands up into the sleeves. 

Geoff opened the small book on his desk, softly cleared his throat, and began to read aloud. He skimmed through the beginning, knowing Awsten wouldn’t be interested, and settled on the third paragraph. 

“…from the direction of the state highway came the sound of footsteps on crisp sycamore leaves. The rabbits hurried noiselessly for cover. A stilted heron labored up into the air and pounded down river.”

Awsten sniffed and swiped at his nose, his head still down, but he was quiet.

 

_ For a moment the place was lifeless, and then two men emerged from the path and came into the opening by the green pool. They had walked in single file down the path, and even in the open one stayed behind the other. Both were dressed in denim trousers and in denim coats with brass buttons. Both wore black, shapeless hats and both carried tight blanket rolls slung over their shoulders. The first man was small and quick, dark of face, with restless eyes and sharp, strong features. Every part of him was defined: small, strong hands, slender arms, a thin and bony nose. Behind him walked his opposite, a huge man, shapeless of face, with large, pale eyes, and wide, sloping shoulders; and he walked heavily, dragging his feet a little, the way a bear drags his paws. His arms did not swing at his sides, but hung loosely. _

 

Geoff glanced up to see his student, black eye and all, looking right at him curiously.

 

_The first man stopped short in the clearing,_  Geoff continued, _and the follower nearly ran over him. He took off his hat and wiped the sweat-band with his forefinger and snapped the moisture off. His huge companion dropped his blankets and flung himself down and drank from the surface of the green pool; drank with long gulps, snorting into the water like a horse. The small man stepped nervously beside him._

_“Lennie!” he said sharply. “Lennie, for God's sakes don't drink so much.” Lennie continued to snort into the pool. The small man leaned over and shook him by the shoulder. “Lennie. You gonna be sick like you was last night.”_

_Lennie dipped his whole head under, hat and all, and then he sat up on the bank and his hat dripped down on his blue coat and ran down his back. “That's good,” he said. “You drink some, George. You take a good big drink.” He smiled happily._

_George unslung his bindle and dropped it gently on the bank. “I ain't sure it's good water,” he said. “Looks kinda scummy.”_

_Lennie dabbled his big paw in the water and wiggled his fingers so the water arose in little splashes; rings widened across the pool to the other side and came back again. Lennie watched them go. “Look, George. Look what I done.”_

 

As Awsten grew more interested in the strange pair of characters, Geoff shifted from his desk back to the seat next to the one Awsten was filling. Awsten peered over Geoff’s shoulder to follow along on the page.

Two adults started a conversation in the hall, and Geoff glanced at Awsten, almost expecting him to shrink back into himself, but Awsten nodded at the book and murmured, “Keep going." He quickly added, "Please.” 

Geoff smiled. He’d been teaching for three years, but he swore even if he taught for thirty more, he’d never, ever, ever get tired of a student falling in love with a story.

 

_Lennie looked timidly over to him. “George?”_

_“Yeah, what ya want?”_

_“Where we goin', George?”_

_The little man jerked down the brim of his hat and scowled over at Lennie. “So you forgot that awready, did you? I gotta tell you again, do I? Jesus Christ, you're a crazy bastard!”_

_“I forgot," Lennie said softly. "I tried not to forget. Honest to God I did, George."_

_"O.K.- O.K. I'll tell ya again. I ain't got nothing to do. Might jus' as well spen' all my time tellin' you things and then you forget 'em, and I tell you again."_

_"Tried and tried," said Lennie, "but it didn't do no good. I remember about the rabbits, George."_

_"The hell with the rabbits. That's all you ever can remember is them rabbits. O.K.! Now you listen and this time you got to remember so we don't get in no trouble. You remember settin' in that gutter on Howard Street and watchin' that blackboard?"_

_Lennie's face broke into a delighted smile. "Why sure, George. I remember that... but... what'd we do then? I remember some girls come by and you says... you says..."_

_"The hell with what I says. You remember about us goin' in to Murray and Ready's, and they give us work cards and bus tickets?"_

_"Oh, sure, George. I remember that now." His hands went quickly into his side coat pockets. He said gently, "George... I ain't got mine. I musta lost it." He looked down at the ground in despair._

_"You never had none, you crazy bastard. I got both of 'em here. Think I'd let you carry your own work card?"_

_Lennie grinned with relief. "I... I thought I put it in my side pocket." His hand went into the pocket again._

_George looked sharply at him. "What'd you take outa that pocket?"_

_"Ain't a thing in my pocket," Lennie said cleverly._

_"I know there ain't. You got it in your hand. What you got in your hand- hidin' it?"_

_"I ain't got nothin', George. Honest."_

_"Come on, give it here."_

_Lennie held his closed hand away from George's direction. "It's on'y a mouse, George."_

_"A mouse? A live mouse?"_

_"Uh-uh. Jus' a dead mouse, George. I didn't kill it. Honest! I found it. I found it dead."_

_"Give it here!" said George._

_"Aw, leave me have it, George."_

_"Give it here!"_

_Lennie's closed hand slowly obeyed._

_George took the mouse and threw it across the pool to the other side, among the brush. "What you want of a dead mouse, anyways?"_

_"I could pet it with my thumb while we walked along," said Lennie._

_"Well, you ain't petting no mice while you walk with me. You remember where we're goin' now?"_

_Lennie looked startled and then in embarrassment hid his face against his knees. "I forgot again."_

_"Jesus Christ," George said resignedly._

 

“Why is he so mean?” Awsten interrupted. 

Geoff raised his eyebrows. “What?”

“George,” Awsten explained. “Why’s he so mean?”

“I think he’s frustrated,” Geoff responded carefully.

“But he’s trying.”

“Lennie is?”

“Yeah. He’s - he’s special, right?” 

Geoff nodded. 

“So George needs to shut up,” Awsten humphed. 

Geoff laughed softly. “I told you you’re a good friend.” God, the ending of this book was going to absolutely annihilate Awsten. And the English teacher in Geoff could hardly wait. “I wish Lennie had been with you instead of George.”

“Me, too.” A beat passed. “Um, can you…”

“Would you like me to keep reading?”

“Yeah.” 

Geoff read and read. Every once in a while, he checked to see whether Awsten was still engaged, but he always was. Forty minutes later, the halls were loud and bustling, and a few more kids were hanging out in Geoff’s room. Awsten’s hood was still up to conceal his bruise, but he hadn't protested the younger students gathering around to listen to Geoff read. 

When the warning bell rang, all of them groaned sadly. 

“I know. I’m sorry.” Geoff folded the top corner of the page down and, as everyone had started to grab their backpacks and depart, said to Awsten, “We’re almost to the place where we stopped in class on Friday. When class starts, I will do a brief review of what we read last week, and then we’ll continue forward.”

Awsten nodded.

“Do you like it?” Geoff asked.

“Yeah,” Awsten replied, seeming surprised at himself.

“You know, contrary to popular belief, I do try to pick books that I think my students will enjoy,” Geoff smiled. 

Awsten, for the first time in days, cracked a small smile as well.

 

* * *

 

 **Room 121**  
**February 24, 7:57 AM**

Alex rushed into the classroom and grabbed an unsuspecting Awsten by the shoulder. “Hey.”

Awsten flinched and whipped away from him, trying to shield Alex from the view of his skin, but it was too late.

“Holy fuck,” Alex breathed.

“I’m fine,” Awsten quickly lied. “I’m fine - it was an accident, okay, I-”

“Fuck, Awsten,” Alex hissed worriedly. He grabbed him by the chin to get a better look. “Was it Mom or Dad?”

Awsten shoved Alex’s hand away and glanced over at Mr. W, who was trying too hard to appear like he wasn’t listening, and then back at Alex. Or - what he could see of Alex from behind the swelling. He just shook his head.

“Okay,” Alex placated, and he leaned down, intending to give Awsten a hug. Before he could, though, Awsten pushed at him.

“Later.”

“Aws…”

“If you do it now, I’ll start fucking crying,” Awsten told him matter-of-factly, “and I just started feeling better. I’ll tell you and Otto at the same time. I don’t want to explain the whole thing twice.”

Alex nodded and tugged on one of the straps of his bag. “Okay, then. Um, are you gonna go sit where you usually do?”

Awsten shook his head. “I wanna stay up here.”

“Okay. Can I still sit with you, or do y-”

“Yeah. Stay.”

Alex smiled, relieved. “Okay.”

“Hello, everyone! Before you get too settled, make sure to put your bags and cell phones at the front of the room, please,” Mr. W called.

Alex took his own backpack and Awsten's dead phone and set them against the wall. Soon, Mr. W was delving back into the book, and everything felt okay.

By the time class ended and Mr. W was wrapping up chapter three, each member of the class was hanging on his every word. The bell sounded to signal the end of first period, but Mr. W held up a finger and kept reading. No one moved a muscle. Four minutes later, he finished the end of the chapter and closed the book. “Alright, go. Quickly. I’ll send an email to your teachers.”

There was a flurry of motion, and several cries of, “Bye, Mr. W!” as the kids dashed to retrieve their belongings and scatter.

“Bye, kids.”

Awsten gave Mr. W a small smile on his way out. 

“Bye, Awsten.”

Alex grabbed his sweatshirt sleeve in the hall. “Dude. When are we gonna talk?”

“Lunch.”

Alex’s forehead creased. “Aws, you might not be here at lunch.”

“What do you mean?”

“You think they’re just gonna let you hang out here with your...?" He trailed off, grimacing at Awsten's bruise. "No, dude. The fucking cops will be here soon.”

Awsten bit his lip. Even though it had occurred to him last night, he hadn’t remembered that part this morning. “Let’s go find Otto.”

Alex nodded, and they set off.

 

* * *

 

** Miss Harrison's Office  
February 24, 9:00 AM **

Geoff jogged down to Annie’s office. “Annie?” he called through the door, knocking wildly. “Annie, it’s Geoff Wigington.”

Annie opened the door a crack. “I’m with a student.”

Geoff mouthed, “Is it Awsten?”

Annie blinked.

Even though he knew she couldn’t answer that, he figured it was worth a shot. “There’s an emergency,” he whispered, so softly she wasn’t sure she could even hear him.

Annie smiled at her student and said brightly, “I’ll be right back, hon, okay?” Then she slipped out the door. “What’s going on?” she murmured.

“He’s got a black eye."

“Awsten?” she asked, shocked.  


“Yes. It's very large, and it's very dark. He can't fully open his eye because it’s so swollen.”

“Oh my god,” she breathed.

“He was waiting outside my classroom this morning when I arrived - at  _6:50._  I have no earthly idea what time he got to school. It could have been two o’clock in the morning, for all I know.”

Annie’s eyes were wide.

“But he waited for me. He refused to speak to me, but he waited, and that must be important. He was very distraught after he came into my room, and he apologized for what he'd said to me, but he refused to share anything else about what had happened to him or where he'd been. And when Alex Gaskarth, who’s one of his best friends, came in, he asked, ‘Was it your mother or your father?’”

“Oh my god,” Annie repeated.

“I'm aware that I have to be the one to call it in," Geoff continued, "but I wanted to let you know, as well. I’ve never done this before.”

She nodded. Then she looked up at Geoff. “Where is he now?”

“I'm not sure. His next class, I assume.”

“Alright. I’ll make a call to his teacher and bring him down here. Thank you so much for telling me. Are you going to be in your classroom?”

“Yes.”

“This is your free period, correct?”  
  
Geoff nodded.

“Okay. I’ll send whoever comes your way.”

“Thank you,” he nodded. He started to leave, but then he turned back around and pleaded, “Please don’t let the office remove him from my class. He sought me out this morning, and I c- I need to be here for him. As far as I know, he’s not reaching out to anyone else. And when he apologized for last week, and I could tell it was genuine. It was. I know he truly meant it.”

“I’ll have to talk to some people, but I’ll see what I can do.”

Geoff nodded, slightly reassured. He hoped Awsten was alright.

 

* * *

 

** Lakeview High School Baseball Field  
February 24, 9:04 AM **

“Okay,” Awsten began, blowing out a heavy breath.

The trio was huddled on the back bleachers at the baseball field, far away from where anyone could spot them. Awsten would have much rather had this talk at the lake, but he wasn't about to pull both Alex and Otto from campus and drag them into trouble with him. 

Otto was still staring at Awsten like he was about to physically shatter into a million pieces, and it was taking everything Awsten had in him not to snap at him. The only thing allowing him to bite his tongue was the knowledge that had the roles been reversed, Awsten would have been looking at Otto exactly the same way.

“Um, my parents were out of town drinking all weekend. You knew that. But they got home Sunday night earlier than I was expecting. I guess Miss Harrison has been calling them or whatever…” He wiped at his nose. “She left a voicemail for them. I don’t know what she said, but they were pissed. Came flying up into my room and…” Awsten motioned to his ruined eye.

“That’s it?” Alex asked skeptically.

“Uh, no, not really,” Awsten admitted. He dragged the toe of his Converse across the ground. “I left. It was like ten o’clock, but I just ran. That’s why I don’t have anything today, like a bag or a snack or whatever. These are the clothes I had on last night.”

“Where did you go?” Otto demanded.

“I came here,” Awsten answered. “School.”

“You’ve been here all night?!” Alex asked incredulously.

Awsten nodded.

“Awsten,” Otto said worriedly at the same time Alex murmured, “Holy shit.”

“I’m fine.”

Alex snorted.

Awsten huffed a laugh. “Anyway. I slept under the tree outside the science lab. I woke up at six something, I guess; my phone died last night, so I don’t know exactly. Some janitor came and unlocked the building, and the clock in the hall said 6:20. And then I just waited for Mr. W until he came to school. I was in there all morning. He, uh. He was reading to me. Catching me up on what you guys did on Friday, I guess,” he said to Alex. Just as he finished speaking, his stomach gurgled. He rushed to put a hand over it, as if to conceal the sound, but it was too late.

“Awsten,” Otto repeated, softer this time.

“I’m fine,” Awsten whispered again.

“Don’t fucking lie to us,” Otto said firmly. “What do you need?”

“Nothing.”

“Awsten...”

_“Nothing.”_

“No,” came Otto’s terse reply. He shook his head. “No. You’ve been my best friend since we were, like, five, and what, you expect me to just say okay to that? I don’t think so. I know you better than that.  _You_  know  _me_  better than that. Awsten, come on. Don’t shut me out. Please.”

Awsten didn’t speak. His bottom lip wobbled dangerously, and he hated how it made him feel like a baby. It made him feel weak. He looked up at Otto anyway, shrugging one shoulder sadly before his tears spilled over of their own accord. “It was just a bad day,” he smiled, his voice cracking all over the place.

“That’s it. Come here,” Otto ordered, and Awsten did, sliding forward so he could bury his eyes in Otto’s shoulder. Awsten could feel Alex’s hand rubbing his back as Otto gripped him tightly. He felt stupid for crying again, but it felt so good to have gentle hands on him and know people actually cared about him that a decent chunk of the embarrassment was alleviated. Still, he couldn’t shake the fear.

“Otto, they’re gonna send me away,” Awsten whispered. “What if they’re worse than my parents? At least they mostly don’t pay attention to me. And they only do shit like this when I deserve it.”

Otto’s grip tightened. “We’ll tell them you’re staying with me.”

Awsten would have laughed, but he needed the words so badly, even if they weren’t true.

“My mom still has her foster license from last time you stayed with us, I think,” Otto added, thinking aloud. “It’s gonna be okay, Aws. We’ll take care of you. Don't worry.”

“I don’t want to go home, but I don’t want to go away,” Awsten whimpered as a humiliating sob forced its way out.

“One thing at a time,” Alex told him gently. “Otto's right; it’s gonna be okay.”

Awsten nodded. He turned his face inward so his forehead was pressed against Otto’s neck, and he let his best friends comfort him, knowing that he likely wouldn’t be able to have anything like this again for a long time.

 

* * *

 

** Miss Harrison's Office  
February 24, 10:08 AM **

“…a missing persons report,” the social worker was saying, “but I’d really like to stall as long as possible-”

Awsten, flanked on either side by Otto and Awsten, appeared in Miss Harrison’s doorway. “Sorry,” he murmured.

There was a soft chorus of gasps at his appearance, and Miss Harrison quickly made her way toward Awsten. “Sweetheart, oh my word…”

“I’m alright,” he said quietly. “Um, sorry I disappeared. I just… wanted to talk to my friends before, you know…” He nodded toward the social worker and the police officer.

“I completely understand,” Miss Harrison nodded. Awsten hated how fake and sickly sweet her voice sounded. “Why don’t you two gentlemen go back to your classes? Tell your teachers that you were with me, alright?”

Both boys looked to Awsten, who nodded. Otto reached down and gave Awsten’s wrist a gentle, encouraging squeeze before he and Alex departed.

“Awsten, this is Officer Barnes and Miss-”

“Miss Teri, I know.” He looked up at her. “I remember you.”

“Hey, baby,” Teri said, giving him her best attempt at a smile. “You okay?”

He nodded at the floor. He hated adults, and now he was surrounded by them. One, two, three… four. Mr. W was there, too. Fuck. His heart started to beat even faster.

“Awsten, I’m Officer Barnes,” the cop greeted, stepping forward and holding out a hand for Awsten to shake. Awsten suddenly felt a lot smaller. “I’m real sorry we gotta meet like this. Could you tell us what happened?”

Awsten shook his head. He’d already told Otto and Alex. There was no one else that needed to know.

“Awsten-”

He wrapped his arms around his abdomen and went to sit beside Mr. W on the couch. Miss Harrison seemed surprised. So did Mr. W.

Everyone was silent as they stared at him. The air conditioner kicked on, and a couple loud people could be heard chatting in the hallway. Awsten stayed silent. Everyone kept staring at him. Time was moving agonizingly slowly. So he gave in.

“I broke the rules,” he finally offered. He had to clear his throat before he continued; it was still a little raw from crying a few minutes earlier. “I deserved it.”

“Awsten, no,” Mr. W countered, taken aback.

“I did,” Awsten shot back angrily. “I didn’t do what I was supposed to do, and I got punished. It won’t happen again.” He shrugged. “End of story.”

Teri, the social worker, was scribbling furiously on her notepad. Awsten ignored her.

“So you can kick me out now or whatever.”

“Who did this to you?” Teri asked, putting his alarming comments on hold for a moment.

Awsten bit his lip. He didn’t want to be sent away, but what the hell - could it be that much worse somewhere else? And why should he protect his shitty parents? “My dad,” he confessed. “But my mom wanted him to.”

Mr. W was visibly shaken by this information. Awsten wondered what he thought could have happened. Who else would have beat the shit out of him?

“Otto says I can stay with him,” he told Teri desperately.

She smiled softly. “I thought you might say that. You know I’ll need to check some things over bef-”

“Please let me go with him. Please. His parents are so nice.”

“I’ll see what I can do. Keep your fingers crossed, baby, okay? Before we do anything else, though, I’m going to need you to tell us in more detail what exactly happened.”

Awsten let his posture deflate. He leaned slightly into Mr. W, who immediately wrapped an arm behind Awsten’s shoulders. For some reason, this gave Awsten the reassurance he needed. He swallowed, pressed pause on his emotions, and began to speak.

 

* * *

 

** Lakeview High School  
February 24, 10:37 AM **

Geoff just barely kept it together through Awsten’s testimony. Once Awsten had finished recounting the events of the previous night, Geoff excused himself and disappeared into the faculty restroom. He locked the door behind himself and pressed his fingers hard over his face, trying to imagine how on earth someone could do that to a child. Any child. But to their  _own_  child… Geoff wasn’t a parent, but he was furious, shocked, confused, and, mostly, horrified.

He sent a text to John that read, “He just told us what happened. I can’t believe there are such cruel people in the world.”

_Grapes? You can’t repeat it right?_  came the reply.

“Yes,” Geoff responded. “And no, I’m not allowed to say anything.”

_Will he be ok, do you think?_

“I don’t know, but I certainly hope so.”

_I hope so, too._

Geoff exited the bathroom after taking another moment to calm down and headed back to the hall, where Awsten was walking away with the social worker and the police officer.

“Wait!” Geoff called, and all three of them turned around. “Where are you going?”

Awsten broke away from the adults and started quickly toward Geoff with panic in his eyes. “I don’t want to leave,” he pleaded.

“Where are you going?” Geoff repeated, his voice softer now that Awsten was closer.

“They’re making me go to the police station.” The purple-haired boy stopped in front of Geoff and looked straight at him, silently begging. He swallowed and whispered, "I hate the police station."

Geoff’s heart ached for Awsten, whose blue eye was bloodshot and green eye was barely visible behind his black skin. The words tumbled out before Geoff realized what he was saying. “Would it help if I came with you?”

Awsten nodded.

Geoff nodded back. “Alright.”

“Can you get a book?”

“Of course I can," Geoff smiled. 

“Can you get Of Mice and Men?”

The smile grew a bit. “I’ll go grab it right now.”

 

* * *

**Lakeview Police Station**  
**February 24, 11:00 AM**

The station was freezing. Geoff could feel the bones in his fingers every time he went to turn a page. Awsten had taken the hard, plastic chair next to his, and both of them had their backs pressed against the wall. The longer that they waited, and the more that Geoff read, the more Awsten drooped. He sunk slowly into Geoff’s side, following the words over his arm again.

While Geoff felt guilty leaving his classes with a substitute, he knew he would have felt worse leaving Awsten by himself. The boy was literally curled up from the anxiety; his knees were drawn up to his chin, his head was ducked down, and he was leaning into Geoff like Geoff was an oak tree. Had Geoff not been here, Awsten would have been stuck waiting here alone with just the secretary fifteen feet away for company. 

Yes. Geoff had definitely made the right choice.

 

* * *

** Lakeview Police Station  
February 24, 11:12 AM **

To put it simply, Mr. W’s murmurs enchanted Awsten. His voice was the biggest comfort in Awsten’s world at the moment. Awsten would have loved to have Otto by his side, but Mr. W was easily the next best thing.

Awsten had been listening to Mr. W tell the sad tale for nearly twenty minutes when all of a sudden, the story stopped. Awsten’s eyes had been unfocused on the page, and he looked up to see why Mr. W had paused. He sat up a little to get a better reading of the expression on Mr. W’s face.

“Do you see it?” Mr. W asked.

Awsten blinked. “See what?”

Mr. W pointed down at the page, where a certain word was written. A word that Awsten had heard, living in Texas, but he’d never uttered.

“Oh. Uh-huh.”

“I’ll read it when we’re in class, but not here.”

Awsten nodded and readjusted, resting his head on Mr. W’s shoulder this time. He closed his eyes. “Will you keep going, please?” he asked, his voice small.

Mr. W didn’t reply, just picked right up at the sentence he’d cut off, skipping over the word and replacing it with "man."

Awsten had always heard that books were an escape, that they made some people forget where they were or what was going on in their lives. That they could transport you to castles, to old trains, to ships on the ocean, to underground caves. He’d always thought that was a load of bullshit for nerds, but he believed it now. He couldn’t believe he’d missed out on this. Suddenly, he envied all the children that had grown up with their parents reading to them every night.

“Mr. Knight?”

Awsten startled, sitting up and opening his eyes.

Another police officer was standing with Miss Teri and a lady that Awsten didn’t recognize. He wondered if she was another social worker. Maybe a lawyer.

“Awsten, sweetheart,” Miss Teri said kindly, “come on back. We need to get an official statement.”

He swallowed and nodded. He set his feet on the ground, stood up, and followed them. As he walked away, he glanced nervously back over his shoulder.

“I’ll be right here,” Mr. W promised.

Awsten tried to believe him.

 

* * *

 

 **Lakeview Police Station**  
**February 24, 12:52 PM**

It must have been an hour and forty minutes later when Geoff looked up from his phone as a woman strode in. She appeared calm and confident, aside from the fact that her knuckles were white as they clutched her purse. Geoff wondered if this could be Awsten’s mother. A pit grew in his stomach, but before he had time to make a move, she knocked authoritatively on the door that Awsten had been taken through and subsequently disappeared through it. A few minutes later, she came back out with an exhausted Awsten tucked under her arm. As they walked toward the exit, she asked him, “Are you hungry?”

He shook his head.

“Do you want to go home?”

Nod.

“Okay, baby. Should I have Otto's dad fix up the guest room for you, or do you want to stay in the bunk beds like usual?”

“I wanna stay with Otto,” Awsten replied, his voice hardly above a whisper.

"That's what I figured, but I just thought I'd check." She leaned over a few inches to press a kiss into his hair, but Awsten appeared too numb to actually notice. 

They got to the glass doors, and they were about to cross into the parking lot when Awsten suddenly paused. “Wait.” The woman - Otto’s mother, Geoff supposed - stopped, and Awsten turned to look at the space where he and Geoff had been sitting. His eyes widened in surprise. “You’re still here.”

Geoff nodded and took that as his cue to stand up and head over. “I am. I told you I would be.”

Mrs. Wood stopped walking. Her fingers curled protectively over the tops of Awsten’s shoulders. “And who are you?”

“It’s okay. This is Mr. W from school,” Awsten explained, his voice barely audible. “I asked him to come here with me.”

"Geoff Wigington," Geoff elaborated. He held out his right hand, which she shook.

“Oh, yes. I'm Otto Wood's mom. I’m sorry. I wasn’t sure…”

“No, I completely understand,” Geoff responded fervently. He admitted, “Quite honestly, I was wary when you walked in, as well.”

“He reads to me,” Awsten said suddenly, his eyes on his shoes.

Mrs. Wood glanced from Awsten to Geoff. “Well, isn’t that… nice.” The adults traded worried smiles at the delayed words and then both turned their focus back to Awsten.  “Alright, honey,” Mrs. Wood continued, “let’s take you to the doctor like they asked, and then you can go home and lie down. Otto will be back from school before you know it.”

Awsten nodded. She rubbed the side of his arm, and they headed to the car. This time, Awsten didn’t look back.

 

* * *

 

** Otto’s Room  
February 24, 3:26 PM **

The day was endless. Awsten forced some food down and let a doctor shine a light in his eyes, and his sole reward was getting to change into some of Otto’s pajamas and collapse into the bottom bunk. He laid still with his eyes closed for over an hour, but he couldn’t fall asleep. His thoughts were racing far too quickly for him to relax. He didn’t know what the hell was going to happen to him.

It felt like forever before Otto’s car pulled in the driveway. “Where is he?” Awsten heard Otto ask loudly, and several seconds later, the door to Otto’s bedroom opened.

Awsten didn’t move, but he opened his eyes so Otto would see that he was awake.

“Hey,” Otto breathed as he crossed to the bed.

Awsten emotionlessly turned the corners of his lips up in acknowledgement.

Otto dropped his bag, kicked his shoes off, and climbed under the blankets with his best friend. “Did they make you talk?”

“Yeah,” Awsten whispered.

Otto nodded slowly. “How are you?”

Awsten started to respond, but no sound came out. He had to pause and clear his throat. “Fine,” he muttered, but Otto wasn’t convinced.

“Well… it’ll be better now. Mom says she’s not making you go to school tomorrow.”

Awsten turned on his side to get closer and rested a hand on Otto’s hip, and he relaxed a little when Otto pulled him in.

“It’ll be better now,” Otto repeated.

Awsten closed his eyes, hoping that he was right.

 

* * *

**The Lake**  
** February 24, 6:21 PM **

After an early dinner, Alex met Awsten and Otto, and they headed down to the lake. (When they left, Otto’s mom called, “Boys, don’t forget your jackets!” Otto responded with an “Okay!” and a bit of an eye roll, but Awsten didn’t take her words for granted. She wouldn’t have said that if she didn’t care. She wouldn’t have said that if she didn’t love them. Well, Otto, really. But still. At least she had love in her heart at all.)

“You know, my family still calls this your lake,” Otto mused as the three of them crunched through the cold grass. “‘Awsten’s lake.’”

“Really?” Awsten asked, surprised and honestly a little amused.

“Uh-huh.” Otto looked at Alex and explained, “We used to come here when we were kids, and Awsten would pretend it was his.”

“I’m not pretending,” Awsten murmured, stepping on the end of Otto’s words. “No one comes out here but me.”

“The town’s literally called Lakeview,” Alex remarked in confusion.

“Have you ever been here before?” Awsten asked him pointedly.

“…touché. But it’s smaller than I thought it would be.”

Awsten practically glared at him.

“Mom says it’s your sanctuary.”

Awsten shrugged one shoulder. “I guess. Yeah.”

“It’s cool," Alex smiled. "I like it.”

They took a seat a few feet back from the water, Awsten between his two best friends. It was quiet for a few moments; no one wanted to be the first to speak. It felt wrong for Awsten to bring up what had happened, and it also felt wrong him to wait for his friends to ask about it. But he knew that was why they were all here.

“So… what happened after we left?” Alex finally asked.

Awsten took several seconds to look out at the water. He’d always liked it at sunrise best, but dusk wasn’t half bad, either.

“You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to,” Otto told him quickly. “I know it’s not-”

“No, it’s okay,” Awsten murmured. “I’m just… it was a lot. So, um. I had to tell them what happened. Everybody in the room. Did you guys see Mr. W was in there?”

“Yeah,” they replied in unison.

“Oh. Um, I didn’t. For a minute. All I could see was the cop. And Miss Teri.” He turned to Otto. “Do you remember Miss Teri?”

Otto shook his head.

“She was my social worker last time. But yeah, I had to tell them what happened, and then they took me down to the police station, and Mr. W came with me. They didn’t make him. He asked if I wanted him to come, and I said yeah. He brought Of Mice and Men, and he read it to me while we waited. And then I was in the office for like two fucking hours, and they made me tell them everything again, into a tape recorder that time, and then I had to write out a statement, and then I had to do some interview with Miss Teri and a lawyer lady. They videoed that, and I guess they’ll use it in court so I don’t have to talk.”

“They’re taking it to court?” Alex asked.

“Well, yeah,” Awsten responded, as though it should have been obvious. “My parents - even if you take out the fact that they’re my parents, they still assaulted me.”  


Alex nodded.

“But since they’re my parents and this is the second time, they’re probably gonna take me away, so.”

Otto put a hand on Awsten’s forearm and gently squeezed it. “You can stay with us as long as you want.”

Awsten had been dreading this part of the conversation. He knew at some point that Otto, who had only kindness in his soul, would offer that up, and it wasn’t the truth anymore. “I wish…” Awsten started softly, but he stopped. There wasn’t room for wishing now. Things had changed. “That’s not the case this time,” he stated, repeating the exact words the lawyer had said to him.

“What?”

“They’re trying to put me somewhere, um. More permanent. They’re looking for a spot in a group home…”

Otto’s eyes widened.

“Technically just til I turn eighteen, but-”

“But you still need a home, Awsten. They can’t just kick you out on the streets with no one.”

“I know.” He swallowed and let his eyes meet Otto’s for the first time all day. “I don’t know what the hell is gonna happen to me.” He turned to look at Alex, too. “I might never see you guys again.”

“Don’t say that,” Otto said firmly.

“But it’s true,” Alex softly added. “There’s not a group home in Lakeview, is there?”

Awsten shook his head. “Nope.”

“Well, does my mom know?” Otto inquired.

Awsten nodded.

“Then I’m sure she’s trying to figure it out.”

“She asked them a bunch of questions when she was with them. They couldn’t give her whatever answer she was looking for. I don’t know.”

“With the lawyer?”

“Yeah.”

“When was that?”

“This afternoon. She came and got me from the police station.”

“Oh. But if she knew they were gonna make you leave… why didn’t she tell me?”

“I don’t know. Maybe she thought I already had.”

“She told me your phone was dead.”

Awsten sighed. “I don’t know, Otto. You’ll have to ask her. I was pretty out of it, honestly.”

“Yeah, no, I know. I’m sorry.”

Quiet fell again. Awsten usually liked how eerily silent the lake was at night in the wintertime, but he wasn’t fond of it right then. He would have killed for the spring birdsong or the summer cricket chirps to cover up the tension between the three boys. No one knew what to say.

“I’m done,” Awsten declared abruptly, not waiting for his friends before he started walking back up the hill.

He stayed several steps ahead of Otto and Alex the entire way back to Otto’s house. If they were whispering about him, he didn’t hear, and he didn’t care. He tugged the borrowed coat down over his fingers and pulled both cuffs into his hands so he had something to dig his nails into that wasn’t his own skin. He’d never intentionally hurt himself before, but it was proving a challenge not to right then. He wanted to feel something on the outside to quiet the emotions assaulting him on the inside. He picked up his pace.

 

* * *

**Otto’s House**  
** February 24, 6:40 PM **

The only place Awsten could be alone at Otto's was the shower. Not that he was complaining; it had been nice to have company and distractions and people assuring him that things would be okay and making sure he got enough to eat and that he was warm enough and that he wasn’t too upset, but it was too much. Too much.

He was used to being alone when he wasn’t at school. It had been a little overwhelming, not having a moment purely to himself since first thing in the morning. Even when he’d been in Otto’s bed waiting for school to end, Mrs. Wood kept peeking in, and she left the door open. Which was fine - more than fine, really. But Awsten just needed a break.

He stood under the steam, letting the hot water run over his face and cascade down his body. He’d already decided to take his time, but he washed his hair first, because the longer he went without doing it, the harder it would be to talk himself into.

The shampoo was heavy in his hands, significantly thicker than the cheap store-brand stuff his parents kept in the shower. He squeezed a tiny bit into his palm and sniffed it before he reached up to work it through his purple hair. It smelled like some sort of bitter herb. Awsten was used to his hair smelling like too-sweet, fruit-flavored soap, so this was definitely a step up. He had to remember not to get used to it, though.

He rinsed all the shampoo out and lathered a little bit of body wash over his skin before letting himself lean against the tile and shut his eyes, just relaxing under the spray. He could feel his heart beating in his ears. His chest was tight, like he’d been running. He couldn’t help but grind his back teeth together.

Goddamn.

Steam began fogging up the room, and Awsten turned the water temperature down a little even though it wasn’t too hot. He didn’t want to get in trouble. Even though he tried to remind himself that Otto’s parents were good, kind people, it was hard for Awsten to dial back the thoughts about ways he could wind up getting hit again.

And what if his parents figured out where he was staying? What if they came after him? What if they hurt Otto or his family? Awsten would never, ever forgive himself. And what if-

He flinched at the sound of a curt knock.

“Awsten?” Otto called through the door. “You okay?”

“Uh, y-yeah,” Awsten stuttered. How long had he been in here? He’d been so lost in his head that it could have been five minutes or thirty.

“Okay. Take your time. I just wanted to make sure.”

Awsten waited a few seconds after Otto had walked away to shut the water off. He toweled off as quickly as he could and pulled on the new pajamas Otto had tossed to him. Then he ran his fingers through his hair, hung the towel up to dry, and retreated back to Otto’s room.

Otto looked pretty surprised to see him. “Dude, I didn’t mean that you had to get out. I just didn’t know if something was going on, or… I don’t know.”

“I know,” Awsten replied, trying to smile.

Otto pursed his lips and looked his friend over. “Alright. You wanna play video games?”

Awsten averted his gaze. “Um, I kinda just wanna sleep if that’s okay.”

“It’s not even seven forty-five,” Otto told him, his eyebrows raised.

Awsten shrugged.

“Yeah, man, go ahead.”

“I can go in the guest room if you wa-”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Otto snorted. “I wouldn’t wanna miss you talking in your sleep about Kid Rock.”

Awsten did crack a small smile at that, and he felt a sudden rush of emotion coupled with the intense urge to say something. He looked down at his lap. “Love you,” he mumbled. The next thing he knew, Otto was pouncing on him like a lion cub and wrapping his arms around him from behind.

“I love you, too.”

Awsten let himself sag into Otto’s grasp. He brought a hand up to hold onto Otto’s wrist, and he closed his eyes as Otto rested his chin on Awsten’s shoulder. The embrace only lasted a few seconds, and then Otto was sitting back up. “Light off or on?”

“Off,” Awsten replied, crawling to the head of the bed and slipping underneath the covers.

“Fan off or on?”

“On.”

Otto fixed things how Awsten wanted and then laid down in the bed beside him.

“What are you doing?” Awsten asked, exhaustion seeping into his voice. “It’s too early for you to sleep.”

“I’m worried about you,” Otto replied quietly.

“Okay…?”

“So I’m gonna stay til you fall asleep.”

“You don’t have t-”

“Well, too fucking bad. I’m going to.” Otto sighed, staring up at the underside of the top bunk. “You’re my brother, Awsten. You always have been. I’m not just gonna walk away and leave you, especially not now.”

Awsten quickly turned on his other side so Otto wouldn’t see his lips twist as he tried to keep the tears inside. God, he was being such a bitch today. Crying  _three times?_  Seriously?

But then Awsten felt Otto’s hand on his back, slowly moving up and down, and he couldn’t help it. A soft sob tore its way out, but Otto didn’t speak, didn’t shush him. He just stayed by Awsten’s side and kept rubbing his back.

The crying barely lasted thirty seconds; Awsten was far too tired. Tired of crying, tired of feeling, tired of living. The dreamless sleep was a mercy.


	3. Letters

** Room 121  
February 26, 7:56 AM **

Geoff was finishing up a recommendation letter when Alex walked into the classroom. Awsten trailed behind him with a glum expression on his face.

“Alex, Awsten,” Geoff greeted. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” Alex replied. 

“Awsten, we missed you yesterday.”

Awsten didn’t respond.

Alex started back for his normal seat, but Awsten tugged on his sleeve and led him back to where they’d sat on Monday, up front near Geoff’s desk. 

The skin around Awsten’s eye had turned a nasty shade of plum, but the swelling had gone down significantly since Geoff had last seen him. Awsten had a backpack now, too, and an actual jacket - not just a sweatshirt. Geoff felt good about that. But the look on his face… Geoff wished he could say something. It just didn’t feel right. The last thing Geoff wanted was to overstep and upset him.

Geoff watched as Awsten dumped his things in the chair, but he averted his eyes when he felt Awsten coming over to his desk. 

“Um… can I talk to you for a minute?” Awsten asked quietly.

Geoff turned his chair to face him. “Of course. What’s on your mind?” 

“I, um. I have to leave Lakeview.” 

Geoff’s face fell. “What? Why?”

“They’re putting me in a group home.” 

“I thought they were going to let you stay with Otto Wood.”

“Yeah, but that comes with a list of ‘conditions,’ and I’ll never be able to do all of them.”

Geoff’s forehead wrinkled. “What sort of conditions?” 

“Therapy. And school stuff,” Awsten sighed. He waved Geoff off. “It’s impossible, so.”

“What sort of school stuff?” Geoff pressed.

“Like - I mean, I have the page if you wanna see.”

Geoff nodded.

“Okay, hang on.” Awsten went back to his bag and dug around in it for a few seconds before producing a balled up sheet of paper and tossing it to Geoff. 

Geoff caught it and smoothed it out on his desk. He skimmed over the paragraphs and skipped to the bullet points.

 

_The student shall:  
_

  * _Attend at least one therapy session per week_
  * _Maintain a grade point average of 2.0 or above_
  * _Not be marked absent without approved explanation (illness, death in the family, etc.)_
  * _Display acceptable conduct at all times_
  * _Test negative for drugs, alcohol, and other such substances_
  * _Participate regularly in at least one school club, sport, or activity_



 

He looked back up at Awsten. “This is most definitely not impossible!”

Awsten scoffed.

“Sincerely. You can do this, Awsten.”

Awsten started counting his protests on his fingers. “I don’t want to talk to some stupid shrink about my problems. My grades suck. It’s in my DNA to get in trouble. I don’t do drugs or anything, but I’m not athletic, and I can’t join a freaking club. It’s the middle of the year.”

“The time of year doesn’t matter. There are thirty clubs at this school! Find one that interests you, and attend a meeting. That’s all there is to it. You might even enjoy yourself. Every teacher has a club, and some of them have more than one. There’s chess club, and jazz band, and art club. Language clubs, film club, FCA-”

Awsten bit his lip. “Do you have one?” 

“Yes.” 

“Which?” 

Geoff smiled. “I run the creative writing club.”

“Oh,” Awsten responded softly, and then he looked up. “Would you let me be in that one?”

Geoff practically beamed. “We’d be more than happy to have you.”

Awsten looked back down at his feet.

“We meet on Wednesdays - that’s today - at 3:30. Does that work for you?”

“Uh-huh.”

Geoff reached for his green pen and crossed the last item off of the list. “There. That's one taken care of already. And you said you don’t drink alcohol or use drugs?” 

Awsten shook his head.

Geoff drew a line through the one above it as well. “Now aside from the therapy sessions-”

“They’re already setting that up for me.”

“Perfect!” He marked ‘Attend at least one therapy session per week’ off the list, too. “So all that's left is to come to school, pay attention in class, and complete your homework. Awsten, you can most definitely do this.” Geoff jotted down the information about creative writing club and was surprised at the expression Awsten had on his face when he looked back up. Geoff couldn’t quite name it, but it pulled on his heart.

“Do you really think so?” Awsten asked hesitantly. For the first time, Geoff could see a fleck of hope in his eyes.

“Absolutely,” Geoff encouraged. “If you need any assistance, I will be here. Well - excluding help with math. They started teaching the new methods right after I graduated, and trust me, they are not my strong suit,” he laughed. “But I am confident that you will be successful. You are going to do a wonderful job.” He held the crumpled list back out to Awsten, who took it and shoved it in his jacket pocket. “Now, you're caught up on the reading since we read on Monday after we left. Today, we will finish the last chapters, and then we will have completed the novel.”

“Already?” Awsten asked sadly.

Geoff nodded. “I’m afraid so. But since we’re wrapping up, that means you will have some assignments and a test that I expect you will do well on. Those will get entered into your average, and…” Geoff pointed at Awsten’s pocket, where the list was nestled. 

Awsten grimaced.

“No,” Geoff said softly. “Awsten, please look at me.”

The boy obliged.

“You will do a fine job. So long as you know the story and you’ve been listening in the discussions, my tests are simple and straightforward. I promise.” 

Awsten tried to smile.

“It’s going to be fine,” Geoff promised. “Alex looks like he’s missing you, though.” He watched as Awsten turned around to find his friend staring at him, looking bored out of his mind. 

“Three thirty?” Awsten checked.

“For writing club? Yes. Bring a notebook and a pencil, and you’ll be all set.”

 

* * *

 

** Room 121  
February 26, 8:40 AM **

The class gasped sharply. 

Geoff looked out at them, fully aware of the power he held over them as he read from the pages. He directed his gaze back down to the book, but only long enough to capture the next sentence in his mind and repeat it to the class. From this point of the story on, Geoff was only interested in the reactions of his students. 

 

_For a moment he seemed bewildered. And then he whispered in fright, "I done a bad thing. I done another bad thing."_

 

Geoff scanned the room. Maddie was holding tightly to the hand of the girl beside her, Chloe. They both looked shocked. Zack was staring at Geoff, leaning so far forward that he was practically lying across his desk. Alex and a girl named Taylor were holding their breath. Awsten had both of his hands cupped over his mouth and nose. Michael, who was now Geoff’s least-interested student, was staring at the carpet with his eyebrows completely arched. Even Cassadee had her hands wrapped around the sides of her desk, and she was looking at Geoff in desperation.

Geoff wrapped up the chapter and then paused, setting the book down on his knee. There was a collective cry of, “No!” from the class, and Geoff couldn’t help but chuckle. “I have four pages left,” he told them.

“Read them!” Alex begged. 

“Please!” Chloe added. “We have enough time!”

“I know. I just wanted to take a second to see if anyone had any comments.”

“No, just keep going,” Awsten pleaded.

“We have to know what happens!” Taylor cried.

Geoff smiled. “Alright, alright,” he said fondly.

“Yes!” Alex whispered.

The class was small; just eight students. It was an on-level section, one that the other teachers - Mr. O’Callaghan in particular - hadn’t had much faith in. But seeing them like this, all wrapped up in a book and in panic mode when Geoff paused, made Geoff realize all over again that they weren’t just numbers. His class wasn’t made up of GPAs or test scores or attendance statistics. They were kids. Bright, curious, kind kids. And goddamn, they loved this book. 

 

_Lennie came quietly to the pool's edge. He knelt down and drank, barely touching his lips to the water. When a little bird skittered over the dry leaves behind him, his head jerked up and he strained toward the sound with eyes and ears until he saw the bird, and then he dropped his head and drank again._

_When he was finished, he sat down on the bank, with his side to the pool, so that he could watch the trail's entrance. He embraced his knees and laid his chin down on his knees. The light climbed on out of the valley, and as it went, the tops of the mountains seemed to blaze with increasing brightness._

_Lennie said softly, "I di'n't forget, you bet, God damn. Hide in the brush an' wait for George." He pulled his hat down low over his eyes. "George gonna give me hell," he said. "George gonna wish he was alone an' not have me botherin' him." He turned his head and looked at the bright mountain tops. "I can go right off there an' find a cave," he said. And he continued sadly, "-an' never have no ketchup - but I won't care. If George don't want me... I'll go away. I'll go away."_

 

Geoff read and read, and the kids relaxed a little. But then he got to the kicker.

 

_Lennie got up on his knees. "You ain't gonna leave me, are ya, George? I know you ain't."_

_George came stiffly near and sat down beside him. "No."_

_"I knowed it," Lennie cried. "You ain't that kind."_

_George was silent._

_Lennie said, "George."_

_"Yeah?"_

_"I done another bad thing."_

_"It don't make no difference," George said, and he fell silent again._

_Only the topmost ridges were in the sun now. The shadow in the valley was blue and soft. From the distance came the sound of men shouting to one another. George turned his head and listened to the shouts._

_Lennie said, "George."_

_"Yeah?"_

_"Ain't you gonna give me hell?"_

_"Give ya hell?"_

_"Sure, like you always done before. Like, 'If I di'n't have you I'd take my fifty bucks-'"_

_"Jesus Christ, Lennie! You can't remember nothing that happens, but you remember ever' word I say."_

_"Well, ain't you gonna say it?"_

_George shook himself. He said woodenly, "If I was alone I could live so easy." His voice was monotonous, had no emphasis. "I could get a job an' not have no mess." He stopped._

_"Go on," said Lennie. "An' when the enda the month come-"_

_"An' when the end of the month came I could take my fifty bucks an' go to a... cat house..." He stopped again._

_Lennie looked eagerly at him. "Go on, George. Ain't you gonna give me no more hell?"_

_"No," said George._

_"Well, I can go away," said Lennie. "I'll go right off in the hills an' find a cave if you don' want me."_

_George shook himself again. "No," he said. "I want you to stay with me here."_

_Lennie said craftily- "Tell me like you done before."_

_"Tell you what?"_

_"'Bout the other guys an' about us."_

_George said, "Guys like us got no fambly. They make a little stake an' then they blow it in. They ain't got nobody in the worl' that gives a hoot in hell about 'em-"_

_"But not us," Lennie cried happily. "Tell about us now."_

_George was quiet for a moment. "But not us," he said._

_"Because--"_

_"Because I got you an'-"_

_“An' I got you. We got each other, that's what, that gives a hoot in hell about us," Lennie cried in triumph._

_The little evening breeze blew over the clearing and the leaves rustled and the wind waves flowed up the green pool. And the shouts of men sounded again, this time much closer than before._

 

Geoff slowed his words down, trying to warn the kids that something was coming.

 

_George took off his hat. He said shakily, "Take off your hat, Lennie. The air feels fine."_

_Lennie removed his hat dutifully and laid it on the ground in front of him. The shadow in the valley was bluer, and the evening came fast. On the wind the sound of crashing in the brush came to them._

_Lennie said, "Tell how it's gonna be."_

_George had been listening to the distant sounds. For a moment he was businesslike. "Look acrost the river, Lennie, an' I'll tell you so you can almost see it."_

_Lennie turned his head and looked off across the pool and up the darkening slopes of the Gabilans._

_"We gonna get a little place," George began. He reached in his side pocket and brought out the pistol; he snapped off the safety-_

 

“NO!” 

Geoff wasn’t entirely sure which of the kids had yelled, but there had been at least three separate shouts. He didn’t stop reading.

 

_-and the hand and gun lay on the ground behind Lennie's back. He looked at the back of Lennie's head, at the place where the spine and skull were joined. A man's voice called from up the river, and another man answered._

_"Go on," said Lennie._

_George raised the gun and his hand shook, and he dropped his hand to the ground again._

_"Go on," said Lennie. "How's it gonna be. We gonna get a little place."_

_“We'll have a cow," said George. "An' we'll have maybe a pig an' chickens... an' down the flat we'll have a... little piece alfalfa-"_

_"For the rabbits," Lennie shouted._

_"For the rabbits," George repeated._

_"And I get to tend the rabbits."_

_"An' you get to tend the rabbits."_

_Lennie giggled with happiness. "An' live on the fatta the lan'."_

_"Yes."_

 

Chloe began to cry.

 

_Lennie turned his head._

_"No, Lennie. Look down there acrost the river, like you can almost see the place."_

_Lennie obeyed him._

_George looked down at the gun. There were crashing footsteps in the brush now. George turned and looked toward them._

_"Go on, George. When we gonna do it?"_

_"Gonna do it soon."_

_"Me an' you."_

_"You... an' me. Ever'body gonna be nice to you. Ain't gonna be no more trouble. Nobody gonna hurt nobody nor steal from 'em."_

_Lennie said, "I thought you was mad at me, George."_

_"No," said George. "No, Lennie. I ain't mad. I never been mad, an' I ain't now. That's a thing I want ya to know."_

 

Awsten and Alex, who Geoff could see when he glanced up, both looked positively heartbroken. 

"He won't do it," Awsten whispered, but he didn't sound certain.

 

_The voices came close now. George raised the gun and listened to the voices._

_Lennie begged, "Le's do it now. Le's get that place now."_

_"Sure, right now. I gotta. We gotta."_

_And George raised the gun and steadied it, and he brought the muzzle of it close to the back of Lennie's head. The hand shook violently, but his face set and his hand steadied. He pulled the trigger. The crash of the shot rolled up the hills and rolled down again._

 

Geoff looked up. Several of the mouths of his students were hanging open. Awsten had tears in his eyes. Alex had grabbed onto Awsten’s shoulder and was digging his nails in. Taylor had her fingers pressed over her lips as she softly sobbed.

Somberly, Geoff finished the last page and a half, and then he closed the book and set it back down on his knee. He stared at the class, who still looked shocked and devastated. There were several seconds of complete silence. And then-

“Lennie didn’t mean to!” Awsten burst out angrily. “It was an accident!”

“But what else were they gonna do?” Chloe asked tearfully.

“Yeah, they were gonna make him go to jail,” Cassadee added, “and it would have been worse for him there.”

Zack chimed in. “No, dude, Awsten’s right; that was messed. up.”

“I don’t know what to think,” Alex admitted. He looked at the other kids. "I mean, what would you have done?"

Maddie cried, "I certainly wouldn't have killed anybody!" 

"I would have," Michael muttered. "If something like that was coming to him, yeah. I would have."

"You couldn't," Taylor said softly.

Michael shrugged one shoulder. "I guess you never know til you try, right?"

"That's messed up, dude," Zack said again.

Geoff sat back in his chair and let the kids talk it out. Every year, the reaction was fairly consistent; some kids were frustrated, some kids were heartbroken, and some kids thought George had made the right choice. But regardless of their opinion, in the end, all of them picked a side. To them, either George had done the right thing, or he hadn’t. As an adult, Geoff saw things differently. In his mind, it wasn’t so black and white. 

“Now, for homework,” Geoff announced after a few minutes of listening to them debate back and forth, “I'd like you to write down your thoughts on the book. You may write about whatever you'd like; it doesn’t need to be the ending. But I'd like you to start now, alright? We have two more minutes. Get out some paper.” 

The kids all did, even Awsten, who usually had to convince someone else to give him a pencil and something to write on. Not one student asked him if there was a length requirement. It seemed like - for once - every single one of them had a lot to say.

 

* * *

 

** Room 121  
February 26, 3:28 PM **

No matter what he did, Awsten could not get Of Mice and Men out of his mind. He sat between Otto and Alex at lunch, and although they were having a conversation over him - through him, really - he stared blankly down at the table with his eyes unfocused. By the end of the day, he’d thrown away the paper he’d started out on and instead elected to try a different approach.

He stuffed the first two pieces of notebook paper into Otto’s hand-me-down backpack, and when three thirty rolled around, he figured he’d better ask if his idea was okay. But when he walked into Room 121, Mr. W and the other kids instantly had him completely distracted. Pandora was playing from the crackly desk speakers, and two juniors Awsten didn’t know were singing enthusiastically along with it, doing some sort of terrible performance for Mr. W.

“I said hey! What’s going on?!” they sang, and Mr. W laughed and clapped for them.

“Wow, very nice. Very nice,” he chuckled. “You two need a show.”

“We’re gonna be famous,” one of them gushed sarcastically.

Mr. W shook his head. “Well, don’t forget about me. I would like tickets, please.”

“Front row,” the other one affirmed.

That pulled another laugh out of Mr. W.

The atmosphere of creative writing club seemed less like the awkward, silent, boring library Awsten had been expecting and more like a hangout session. He shifted awkwardly in the archway, not wanting to walk into a room of people he didn’t know when he felt so out of his element, but he was half-shoved in by a girl who bumped into him with her shoulder as she rushed through the door. He stumbled as she swiped her bangs back from her face. “Hey, everybody!”

“Hello, Hayley. Hello, Awsten. Come on in.” Mr. W glanced at the clock on his computer and then turned his attention to the twelve or thirteen kids who were already seated and chatting. “Alright, it’s about that time. Why don’t we set up?”

Everybody got to their feet and started pushing desks around. Awsten drifted over to Mr. W, hoping for some sort of direction.

Mr. W gave him a soft smile. “Grab a desk,” he said, nodding toward the room.

“Um, first, I had a question.”

“Alright. What may I help with?”

“Well, for that thing you assigned... about the book. Is it okay if I write it to you?” At Mr. W’s confusion, Awsten elaborated. “Like, instead of an essay or whatever, can I do it more like a letter?”

Mr. W’s eyes lit up. “I would love that! No one’s ever done that before. It's a wonderful idea.”

Awsten shyly ducked his head and headed toward the circle of desks. He scanned the space for a moment, trying to figure out where to sit and whether he recognized anyone. These were the nerds - the kids that got inducted into the English Honor Society and recognized at assemblies for their ACT scores. Awsten was more the class clown type whom everyone knew but no one was actually close to. 

He suddenly wished that he hadn't come at all. This wasn't the right place for him; he'd have to find another club somewhere, even if that meant spending time with a teacher other than Mr. W. But then he caught sight of a smile.

A girl who looked a lot younger than Awsten was staring at him and wearing an expression that made it seem like she was genuinely happy to see him. She gave him a little wave, and his mouth broke into a grin. “Hey,” he mouthed.

She waved again.

“Can I sit by you?” he asked quietly across the space.

She nodded happily.

He found a desk close by and wiggled it into the space the girl had made for him. “Hey,” he repeated softly as he sat down, and he dropped his backpack clumsily onto the ground next to his chair. “Emily, right?”

She beamed. “Yeah. And you’re Awsten Knight.”

He chuckled at her use of his full name. “That’s me.”

“Is your eye okay?”

“What, this?” he asked, playing serious as he motioned to the bruise. “Didn’t you hear?”

Her eyebrows creased. “No, what?”

“Oh my god. I jumped out of a plane the other day, and my parachute broke. I'm a walking miracle, though; this was my only injury. I should be six feet under right now.”

She laughed. “You’re crazy.”

“That’s what they tell me.”

“Alright!” Mr. W repeated, standing up by the white board and clapping his hands together to get the room’s attention. “Welcome back. I’m glad to see all of you here again. I know each of you has been busy, especially with the musical coming up, so thank you for taking the time to be here. We have a new face today - this is Awsten from my senior English class.”

“Hey,” Awsten said, smiling broadly.

“So, Awsten, what we normally do is, I’ll just put some prompts up on the board. You can use them or adjust them or ignore them - whatever you prefer. And write. You’ll have approximately forty minutes, and for the last fifteen, we’ll share. No one is required to participate in that part, but if you'd like to, you may read your piece to the group or have someone else read it out loud for you. The only thing I ask is that no one is working on homework - unless it’s a creative piece.”

Awsten nodded. Forty minutes sounded like forever, but at least he wasn’t going to be forced to tell everybody what he’d written. That seemed like an invasion of privacy.

Mr. W started writing some things on the board while the other kids started digging in their bags for pencils and paper. Awsten followed suit. He watched as Emily neatly dated the top corner of her paper, and it reminded him of how Mr. W said she’d written about him. He wondered what she’d said.

_Some ideas_ , Mr. W had written. Underneath that was,

  1. _You find a helpless, homeless animal. What is it? What do you do with it?_
  2. _Write about traveling forward or backward in time._
  3. _Imagine you wake up, and you’re suddenly invisible. What is your day like? What do you do?_
  4. _Compose a letter to your future self._
  5. _“I knew today was going to be unusual when I heard…”_



Awsten read the list three times before he settled on the first option. He leaned toward Emily, who was already scribbling furiously, and whispered, “Which one are you doing?”

“The letter,” she whispered back.

“I’m doing the animal one.”

She smiled but didn’t respond. Awsten looked back at his paper and started to think about dogs.

 

* * *

 

 **Room 121**  
**February 26, 4:10 PM**

As soon as Mr. W called time and the other kids started volunteering to read what they’d written, Awsten flipped his paper over. He suddenly felt silly for writing about a little brown puppy named Teddy.

“Are you gonna read yours?” Awsten quietly asked Emily.

“I don’t think so,” she replied under her breath.

“Why not? I bet it’s good.”

She scoffed. “How would you know?” Her tone reminded Awsten how much younger than him she was.

“I don’t know. You seem smart,” he admitted, shrugging one shoulder.

“Well,” she said slowly, “if you let me read yours, then you can read mine.”

Awsten nodded. They swapped papers.

 

 _Dear Emily,_  
_I hope you’re well. I hope Mom and Dad are still together._  
_…wait. Maybe I don’t hope that._  
_I don’t know. I hope things are better, I guess.  
_ _I’m fourteen right now, and I don’t have many friends, but I’m doing okay. You’re probably way happier than me. At least, I like to imagine you that way. Everyone says being a freshman is awkward and weird. I don’t think it seems that bad, although the -_

 

Awsten looked up at the sound of Emily’s gentle laughter. He bit his lip, suddenly hoping that she wasn’t laughing at his work.

“This is so cute!” she whispered. “You should definitely read it to everyone.”

“No way.”

“Would you let me?”

He made a face, and she laughed again.

“Awsten, Emily,” Mr. W said warningly. “Hayley has the floor.”

“Sorry!” Emily chirped. Her cheeks heated up, and she tipped her head so that her hair hid her face from view.

“It was my fault,” Awsten told Mr. W. “I’m sorry.” He glanced at Hayley. “Sorry,” he repeated.

Hayley didn’t speak, just blinked at Awsten in annoyance and then kept reading off her sheet. Awsten was used to that face, though. Not from Hayley in particular, but from basically everyone he encountered. It didn’t bother him. In order to cheer Emily back up, he took his paper back and wrote in the left margin, “You can read it if you want,” before slipping it back onto her desk.

A few minutes later, Mr. W called on Emily, who announced, “This is Awsten’s.”

“Oh, wow!” Mr. W responded, seeming genuinely surprised.

“Yeah. He didn’t want to share it, but I told him it was good, and he said I could read it if I wanted, so. It’s called Teddy.”

“I did the animal one,” Awsten supplied.

“Excellent!”

Emily began to read.

 

_It’s raining outside. I walked through puddles and something moved and it caught my eye. I crouched down and saw a little animal shaking from the cold. It was a dog, a puppy. I put my hand out to see if it would come to me but it just backed up. I stayed on the ground beside it, talking to it and telling it I wasn’t going to hurt it, I just wanted to help it. After a few minutes, it came up and sniffed my hand. I was glad. I had not wanted to scare it but now that it came up to me, I could help it._

_“Hi,” I said._

_The dog didn’t say anything back cause it’s a dog._

_I moved forward and picked up the dog. It was so small that it fit in my hands. It was a brown dog with big black eyes. It looks sad._

_“Where is your family?” I asked it. “Why are you alone?”_

_It just looked at me._

_The dog sniffs at my hand, and cautiously licked me. I smiled. I put the dog under my elbow and took it home. My parents came to see it, and they were so happy I helped the puppy. They said we could keep it as long as I took care of it. I brought him up to my room and dried him off with a towel. I named him Teddy. He fell asleep on me, and I knew that I was supposed to keep him forever._

 

“That’s as far as I got,” Awsten muttered, a little embarrassed. “I stopped and started over a couple times.”

“It’s great,” Mr. W smiled. “I enjoyed the details about the rain.”

“I liked how it was happy and sad,” added one of the sophomore boys. “It was sad that the dog was alone and so small, but it was also hopeful. He found a home, and you helped him.”

Awsten smiled. "Thanks."

“Are you going to read Emily’s to us?” Mr. W wondered.

“Um,” Awsten stuttered. He looked at her. “I think it’s really, um - really personal…”

She nodded gratefully. “Yeah, I’m not gonna share today.”

“Alright; I was just checking. Would anyone like to volunteer to read next?”

 

* * *

**The Parking Lot at Lakeview High School**  
**February 26, 4:31 PM**

“So how was it?” Otto asked as Awsten slid into the passenger seat.

“Um, good, actually,” Awsten admitted.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. He put prompts up on the board, and we each got to pick one, but we didn’t have to. He said we could write about whatever we wanted as long as it was creative.”

“And what did you write about?” Otto asked, almost teasingly. Awsten didn’t think it was anything to be laughed about, though. It had been kind of nice to forget about everything for a while.

“Um, finding a dog. Like, a stray.”

“Yeah, that sounds like you,” Otto nodded.

Awsten shrugged. “Let’s go. I have a lot of homework.”

Otto raised his eyebrows but didn’t comment. He turned the engine over, and the pair started the drive home.

 

* * *

 

 **Geoff's House**  
**February 27, 8:41 PM**

_Dear Mr. W,_

_Thank you for reading Of Mice And Men to me. It helped me a lot this week. It made me think about things other than my problems and I’ve never really had anything like that before. Especially not from school._

_I liked the book a lot. Especially the parts where Lennie was happy, and when Lennie and George were together while George was being nice. I knew George was mean sometimes, but you were right that he was frustrated. I think after a while I would have gotten frustrated too. But it’s hard to think about it like it’s real because the story is so short and I know Lennie and George were friends for a long time. Like how George always said he had to tell Lennie things a million times, that would frustrate me, too. I have to tell my best friend things more than once sometimes and he’s not special, he’s normal, and that makes me mad. I can’t imagine having to say it more times but it’s different if he was special. But I guess if he was special I would try to be more patient. So maybe not._

_Mostly I can’t stop thinking about the ending. Me and Alex talked about it twice after class this morning. We talked about it at lunch and then we talked about it again over text at dinner time. I couldn’t talk to Otto about it because he’s in Mr. O’Callaghan’s class and they haven’t read it yet and I didn’t want to spoil the ending for him. Usually I don’t care about stuff like that unless it’s a movie but I was so surprised and I wanted him to be as surprised as I was. It can’t feel as big if you know it’s coming._

_I was kinda mad at you for making us read such a sad book. I kept thinking it would have a happy ending but it didn’t. I kept waiting for the happy ending when it was sad but it never came. So I was mad at you since I always heard books are supposed to have happy endings. But we’re seniors now and that’s life so I guess it’s good that we have real life practice. I -_

 

Geoff tossed Awsten’s paper down and rubbed his eyes. How the hell had a seventeen year old never read a book with a sad ending? He sipped at his wine and reminded himself that Awsten had probably not read an entire book in ten years - maybe even longer - so this would all be new territory for him. He took a few moments to clean up the humble kitchen before he returned to the table to finish Awsten’s letter.

 

_I wanted to tell you that I’m not mad now though. Especially after writing club. Sometimes writing sad things is important. And making people sad is important. Shooting somebody to save them is a big issue and it makes you think. Especially since it was a special person that didn’t mean to do anything bad. I guess I just got so upset because Lennie kind of reminds me of me. Sorry I yelled a couple times in class. I just kind of thought you and Otto are like George to me that you guys help me and make sure I’m OK even when other people don’t care or notice that stuff is going on and I am thankful for that. But then George did what he did and to me it was like the ultimate betrayal. Even if you’re having a hard time and bad things happen you shouldn’t have to be shot in the back of the head by your best friend. But I get why George did it now. I talked to Otto’s parents about it for a while when Otto and me got home cause they had both read the book before like in high school a really long time ago. Otto’s mom didn’t really remember it that well but Otto’s dad did, so me and him talked about the ending and he said his teacher thought it was terrible what George did but that he disagreed. I asked him why and he said because sometimes it’s better to quit while you’re ahead._

_I think one of the reasons you picked this book was to make us think hard. I always hear about critical thinking and I never really knew what it was until now. We have to decide for ourselves about what we think about the story and it’s a big thing to think about. So I think for now that George wasn’t as wrong as I thought he was in class. All I could see then was that he killed Lennie when Lennie had made a mistake. But what I saw wrong was that he didn’t kill Lennie because of the mistake. He killed him because he was trying to stop what came after._

_I’ve never written anything this long before in my life and I hope it’s not too long since I had a lot to say. Otto’s making fun of me a little for actually doing my homework but I know he doesn’t mean it since he doesn’t want me to move away. I am only doing this because of you. I would have just given up but you told me not to. Thank you. And thanks for making us read this book because I really liked it._

_Awsten Knight_

 

Geoff stood up with the letter in his hand. He went straight to his printer and opened it up, laying the pages face-down on the glass. Never in his life had he hit the “Copy” button so quickly.

 

* * *

**Lakeview High School**  
**February 28, 8:58 AM**

“Otto!” Awsten beamed. “Otto, look!” He waved the paper in front of Otto’s face until Otto snatched it away.

“A hundred?” Otto asked incredulously. Otto flipped through it, glancing at all the green pen Mr. W had left on the pages, underlining things and drawing little stars and happy faces. “Dude!”

“I know!” Awsten grinned. “I got an A plus! An  _A plus!”_

Otto pulled him into a hug right in the middle of the hallway. “I knew you could do it, man. You were writing for fucking hours. You practically had a conference with my parents!”

Awsten laughed.

“So, since you know you got a perfect score, will you let me read it now?”

“No!” Awsten yanked the paper back.

“What? Why not?”

“Spoilers!”

Otto groaned.

 

* * *

 

** Teacher's Lounge  
February 28, 9:11 AM **

“I’ve never written anything this long before,” Geoff read aloud from his copy, “and I hope it’s not too long, since I had a lot to say. Otto’s making fun of me a little for actually doing my homework, but I know he doesn’t mean it since he doesn’t want me to move away.”  Geoff looked up at John, who was sitting across from him with his hands wrapped tightly around a coffee mug. “Do you remember that I told you he’s staying with Otto Wood for now, but he may have to leave the school?”

“Of course,” John nodded. “Keep going.”

“Since he doesn’t want me to move away…” Geoff muttered, trying to find his place. “Oh, here we are. ‘I am only doing this because of you. I would have just given up, but you told me not to. Thank you. And thanks for making us read this book, because I really liked it. Awsten Knight.’”

“Holy fuck,” John mused.

“I know.”

“He’s not very eloquent, but… wow. That’s some serious shit.”

“I did tell you he’s smarter than you think he is,” Geoff smirked, sliding the papers back into his file. “I’m extremely proud of him.”

“I… I hate to say this, but I kind of am, too. Wow. Grapes has come a long way in… what, four days?”

“He’s never put in an ounce of effort before, and now _everything_  revolves around his effort,” Geoff nodded. “He came to class this morning and handed me four front-and-back pieces of paper. I'm not sure that he’s ever written me more than a paragraph.”

John shrugged. “It’s amazing what you’ll do when your life depends on it. But god, that part about him being Lennie and you being George…”

“I got a bit choked up,” Geoff admitted. “It’s heartbreaking. It seems like he doesn’t have a single adult in his life.”

“He mentioned Otto’s parents.”

“Yes, but...” Geoff looked away. “Could you imagine growing up with parents similar to his? He misbehaves constantly, but I really do believe that he’s trying to make people dislike him because he’s afraid that they won’t like him anyway. You know, hurt them so they can’t hurt him.”

John raised his eyebrows.

Geoff knew that look. “I’ve been reading too much Dr. Phil again, haven’t I?” he inquired with a timid smile.

“I think so. Yeah. You could say that.”

Geoff sighed. “I’m just trying to understand. I don’t think anyone else has made an effort to see past the act he puts on.”

“That's because not all of us are saints like you,” John pointed out.

He scoffed in return. “I’m not a saint; I just want all of my students to be happy. You can’t tell me any of us don’t want that.”

“Not to the extent you do,” John replied. “You followed a kid to a police station with a book, and then you waited for him there all day.”

“What part of ‘he doesn’t have a single adult in his life’ do you not understand?” Geoff asked tiredly. John had been questioning his motives all week.

“I get it. I do. The stuff about you wanting to skip work was just me teasing, Geoff. I just - I think Annie should have gone with him, and that should have been the end of it.”

“He hates her.”

“He hates everyone!”

“Except me,” Geoff muttered before he realized what he was saying. He blinked.

“That doesn’t mean you have to up and leave school for him.”

Geoff looked down at Awsten’s paper again. “He was crying,” Geoff murmured. “He waited outside my door for me for who knows how long, and then mere minutes after he came in, he was crying his eyes out. This is a child that never gets upset about anything. Or he doesn’t show it, at least.”

“So you were the one he came to. That doesn’t make you obligated to take care of him.”

“What if I want to?”

John sighed. “Geoff, you’re too ni-”

“He's reaching out," Geoff interrupted. "He's afraid, and he needs someone. How could I possibly say no that? He doesn’t have anyone else, John. He’s alone.”

“But he’s still not your responsibility.”

“You’re telling me you could watch a vibrant student that you thought was made out of steel get a black eye from their father, break down sobbing in front of you, and be removed from school by the police, and you would do nothing about it?”

John held his hands out and shrugged.

“I don’t believe that, not for one minute. He’s a child, John. He’s seventeen. He needs someone he can rely on, an adult to be able to trust.”

“That’s not your place,” John argued again. “His parents are-”

“His parents are monsters,” Geoff growled.

“I don’t disagree with that,” John placated. “Just - I don’t want you to get too deep into this, okay? I’m glad he’s safe now, and I’m glad that you care about him. But you’re not his dad, Geoff. You don’t have to do all this.”

“I know.” He sighed. “You won't change my mind, though.”

“Yeah, trust me, I got that.”

 

* * *

 

** Houston Resilience and Recovery Center  
March 1, 10:02 AM **

“Awsten?” a man called. He had dark hair and nice clothes, but he seemed tired. 

Mr. Wood, who had driven to the appointment, gave Awsten a reassuring smile as the teenager stood up from his chair and followed the man back into a small, bright room with several couches.

The guy wordlessly plopped into an armchair and grabbed a clipboard off the floor. Awsten figured he should probably take a seat as well, so he picked the corner sofa cushion furthest away from the man.

“Uh, hey. Welcome to therapy. I’m guessing you don’t wanna be here,” the guy said shortly.

Awsten didn’t reply.

Without looking up, the man flipped through a few pages.”Uh, today is Saturday, right?”

Awsten quietly cleared his throat. “Yeah.”

The guy nodded. “Alright. I'm Pete. I’ve been a therapist for six years now. I mostly work with foster kids from 12 to 19. You got any questions for me?”

“Um… no?” 

“Okay, let’s see. How old are you?”

“I’m seventeen.”

“You cut yourself?”

Awsten raised his eyebrows. “No.”

The guy marked something off on his paper. “Do you drink?”

“No.”

Another mark. “Smoke?”

“Nope.”

“Not even pot?”

Awsten shook his head, but Pete wasn’t looking so he supplied, “No.”

“You gay, or straight, or like…?”

“Uh, straight.”

“Ever been hospitalized?”

“Yeah. When I was a kid.”

“For what?”

“I had a knee surgery.”

“No, I mean for something psychological.”

“Oh. No.”

“You ever hurt yourself?”

Didn’t he just ask that? “No.”

“Try to kill yourself?”

“Um, no.” Somehow, this endless, choppy list of questions was not what Awsten had pictured therapy to be like. Not that he'd expected rainbows and big monologues, but this was... weird. Pete was weird. Awsten's discomfort grew.

“You don’t live with your parents, right?”

Awsten scratched absently at his shoulder. “No.”

“Where are you staying right now?”

“With my best friend. His parents have a foster license.”

“That’s convenient,” the guy muttered. “Um, how do you know him?”

“School.”

“Where do you go?”

“Lakeview High.”

"Senior, right?"

"Yep."

“You been there all four years?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“You get good grades?”

Awsten snorted a laugh.

“I’ll take that as a no,” the guy said, and instead of making a check mark, he jotted a sentence.

“What are you writing?” Awsten questioned.

“What you told me,” the guy replied flatly. “Between this office and the hospital, I see about a hundred of you kids a week. Gotta write this stuff down or I’ll never remember it.”

“Oh.”

Awsten found it funny that Pete said he ‘sees' them, since Awsten was pretty sure the therapist had no idea that his hair was bright purple.

“Do you like school?”

“Um. I like band. And my English cla-”

“Cool. Tell me about your parents. What happened with them?”

Awsten shifted. “Um…”

The guy finally glanced up, and he blinked in surprise at Awsten’s bruise.

Awsten swallowed anxiously. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“We’ve gotta talk about it,” the guy countered. “That’s the whole reason you’re here.”

Awsten shook his head.

“What?”

Awsten just shook his head again. “I… I wanna leave.”

“That’s fine, but they’ll take you out of school and put you in a group home.” Pete waved Awsten’s file around. “See, I do my homework.”

“I wanna leave,” Awsten repeated. His mind was made up.

The guy nodded down at his papers, skipping a few lines and starting on another sentence. Without looking up yet again, he held a hand out toward the door, and Awsten went right to it, emerging from the tiny office barely three minutes after he’d walked in. Otto’s dad looked surprised to see him.

“Everything okay?”

Awsten leaned down to murmur in his ear so the other people in the waiting room wouldn’t hear him. “No. This isn’t right,” he said softly.

Otto's dad nodded and motioned Awsten out to the parking lot. “Come on, let’s go talk.” Once they were outside, he asked, “What’s not right?”

Awsten glanced at the door he’d come through, and when he saw that the therapist wasn’t standing there, he admitted, “Him.” He shook his head. “He was… wrong.” 

Otto’s dad nodded again, immediately more concerned. “Okay. Are you alright?"

"Yeah. I just didn't like him."

"Okay, son. I'm glad you left."

"Me, too," Awsten agreed quietly.

Otto's dad reached out to ruffle Awsten's hair.  "You ready to head home?”

Awsten nodded. “Please.”

When Otto's dad unlocked the car, Awsten climbed into the passenger seat. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“No, no, don’t apologize. We’ll talk to Miss Teri, okay? She’ll know what to do. We can try again.”

Awsten attempted to smile. Mr. W had made it sound like it was going to be easy, getting everything on the list done, but between tackling therapy and bringing up his physics grade, this was going to be a lot harder than he thought.


	4. In The Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yall know i am not one to give trigger warnings... but for the first time in anything i've written, this chapter deserves it. click the "more notes" button if you want the warning. it's a few short sentences, but it contains a massive, massive spoiler. i promise it has nothing to do with sex, abuse, self harm, or suicide. those things don't get warnings from me. this does.
> 
> that being said, if you think you're game for it, i'd LOVE for you to be surprised!!! this is the riskiest thing i've ever written, and i hope you'll choose to experience it the way it was intended to be read - without a warning.

**Room 121  
** **March 3, 8:02 AM**

It was raining when Awsten paraded into Mr. W’s room on Monday. “Goddamn, it is gross out today!” he announced.

“Awsten, welcome,” Mr. W greeted, unfazed by the language. “Take a seat and grab a pencil.”

“I’m ready to kill this test,” Awsten grinned, dropping into his seat next to Alex.

Mr. W smiled back. “I’m glad to hear that.” He passed out the papers and gave his usual spiel, and, for the first time, Awsten appreciated it.

“Now, just like always, these questions are straight to the point; they’re not intended to trick you or confuse you,” Mr. W told the room. If you have a question, raise your hand, and I’ll come over so you can ask, but I know today more than ever that all of you are going to do a fantastic job.” He scanned his students. “Does everyone have a test and something to write with?”

There was silence, so Mr. W returned to his chair. Awsten bit the end of his pencil and looked down at the page in front of him.

 

  1. One of the difficult topics Of Mice & Men confronts is that of:



               a. prostitution  
               b. euthanasia  
               c. homelessness

 

Without missing a beat, Awsten circled B and moved to the next question.

 

     2. Lennie picks up a ______ to pet while he and George are traveling.

               a. cat  
               b. dog  
               c. pokémon  
               d. mouse

 

Awsten couldn’t help but smile as he circled D. God, Mr. W was right. The tests really  _weren’t_  hard if you did the reading and paid attention. He had a feeling that this was going to be a good day.

 

* * *

 

**Room 121  
** **March 4, 8:55 AM**

Geoff handed back the tests one by one at the door the next morning as the kids left the room for second period, and he made sure to save Awsten’s for last. Alex was hovering in the hall just a few feet away, but Geoff went ahead and told Awsten what he thought.

“I am extremely proud of you,” he declared, and Awsten’s eyes lit up.

“Did I do okay?” he asked hopefully.

“Awsten, you did an  _excellent_  job.” Geoff handed the paper to him and watched as Awsten’s mouth fell open in shock and subsequently broke into a grin.

“Ninety-four?!” the boy exclaimed. He looked up, easily happier than Geoff had ever seen him.

“Ninety-four,” Geoff repeated with a grin.

“That’s an A!”

Geoff chuckled. “Yes, it is. I’m so proud of you,” he repeated.

Awsten bounced forward and flung his arms around Geoff’s middle. “I’m gonna hang this on the fridge!” he announced.

Geoff laughed and embraced his student. “Good! It deserves a spot.”

Awsten squeezed his eyes shut but didn’t let go.

Geoff could tell he was relishing in the moment, so he asked, “How does it feel?”

“So good,” Awsten admitted. He pulled back so he could see Geoff. “Thank you.”

“Remember,  _you_  put in all the work,” Geoff pointed out.

“Nah, if you hadn’t read to me, I don’t think I would’ve done it.”

Geoff shook his head. “I read you three pages, and every single time after that,  _you_  were the one that asked for the book.”

“Oh,” Awsten murmured.

Geoff lightly jostled Awsten’s shoulder, and Awsten smiled up at him like sunshine again. Geoff laughed quietly, happy to see the kid so joyful. He deserved it, especially after the last several days. “Go to class.”

While Geoff did feel bad that Alex was pouting in the hallway, he was happy for Awsten; for the first time all school year, Awsten had actually done better than Alex on an assignment.

 

* * *

 

**Room 121  
** **March 5, 8:00 AM**

“Alright, everyone,” Geoff smiled. “Good morning. Happy Wednesday. Grab a seat, and let’s get started.”

“Awsten just texted,” Alex informed from his new desk in the front. “He’ll be here in just a second. He just got back to the parking lot, and he's walking in.”

“Thank you,” Geoff nodded, “but you know I can’t mark him present until he gets here.”

“I know. Just letting you know.”

“Alright.” He looked at the small handful of kids and counted them. “One, two, three, four, five, six…” And then, “Has anybody heard from Michael this morning?”

No one responded.

“Alright, then. Let’s discuss the reading from last night.”

“I didn’t want to stop!” Taylor blurted. “I had to make myself put the book down!”

Geoff smiled. “What about it stood out to you? Why did you like it so much?”

“Oh, it was so intense! I was so worried. And I - here, um,” she said, flipping open the paperback on her desk. “The part where the little girl came up to the man and asked for a toy animal. And he acted like he wouldn’t do it, but it says, ‘…he reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out three yellow pipe cleaners, which he carried for just this purpose.’”

Geoff nodded knowingly. “I like that scene as well.”

“I liked how she called him Eddie Maintenance,” Chloe laughed.

“I just didn’t want him to die,” Alex chimed in. “I knew he would, ‘cause of the title and all, but I still hoped he wouldn’t.”

“Alex, what did you think of Eddie?" Geoff wondered thoughtfully. "Did you want him to live because you liked him? Or for another reason?”

“Um, I don’t think I liked him that much,” Alex shrugged, “but still, I didn’t want him to  _die._  Especially the way he did. Yikes. It sounds painful as fu-“

Geoff quickly widened his eyes at Alex.

“As anything!”

Geoff smiled. “Agreed.” He looked out at the class. “Anyone else? Thoughts?”

The other three students, Maddie, Cassadee, and Zack, stayed quiet.

“Okay. Let’s talk about-” Before Geoff could finish, he was interrupted by the phone ringing. “Excuse me. I apologize.” He leaned across his desk and picked up the receiver, but within seconds, he found himself turning around so that his expression was blocked from the students.

“This is not a drill,” the automated voice recited. “Please lock your door and pull the shades down. Turn out the light. Hide your students as best you can. Police have been called and are on their way. Information will be given as it is deemed safe.”

The line went dead, and Geoff put the receiver down. He allowed himself one shaky breath before he strode across the room to lock the door. “I need you all to get behind my desk,” he said calmly.

“What?” Taylor asked.

He flipped the light off and turned back around. Not one of the kids had moved.

“I’m not kidding,” Geoff said softly. “Come on.”

“Wh-what?” Maddie echoed.

Geoff held an arm out and motioned them toward him. “Come on. Come on. Quickly.”

Zack stood first, and the rest of the small class followed suit.

“Behind my desk,” Geoff repeated.

The kids obeyed this time, and Geoff watched anxiously as they scrambled to the corner. Maddie and Chloe were huddled side by side, their fingers laced together. Zack chose one of the edges, and Cassadee chose the other, leaving Alex and Taylor in the middle.

Geoff pushed the desk diagonally so it blocked the students in, and then he crouched down in front of them. “There,” Geoff whispered. “Is everyone alright?”

They all stared back at him with confused eyes, so Zack took it upon himself to nod.

“What’s happening?” Chloe whispered.

“I'm not sure,” Geoff responded truthfully.

Taylor asked, “But what did they say on the phone?”

Geoff gave her a sideways smile. “Just to lock the door and cover the windows and that they would tell us more as soon as possible.”

“I want my phone,” Maddie whimpered.

Geoff shook his head. “We need to stay here. But everything will be alright.”

“I wanna call my mom,” she protested, but before she could get the full sentence out, her voice broke, and she started to cry.

“Shh, it’s alright,” Geoff soothed, reaching for her free hand and squeezing it in his.

“We’re in a lockdown,” Cassadee shot back angrily. “It’s not okay.”

Geoff sighed quietly, nodding and closing his eyes. He’d been over this situation in his mind a million times, but he never thought it would actually happen at Lakeview. He swallowed and opened his eyes, looking at his frightened students.

Zack, who hardly ever spoke, asked quietly, “Do you think someone brought a gun to school? Are they coming to kill us?”

The question was what they’d all been thinking, but no one else had dared voice it.

“No,” Geoff said firmly. “I don’t.”

He hoped the kids couldn’t tell that he was lying.

Taylor replied, her voice barely audible. “Then what are we doing here?”

“I'm not sure," Geoff repeated. "At the moment, I only know as much as you know.”

The students fell quiet. Time ticked by, and it was taking everything Geoff had in him not to open his mouth and start babbling. Of course he thought that someone had brought a gun. Of course it was likely that they were all in real danger. Of course Geoff would throw himself in front of his kids without a second thought.

He was a teacher, though, not a super hero. He was just as afraid as they were. He wanted to call his father and tell him one last time how much he loved him.

A sharp yell came from the hallway in the form of a low male voice. “Ay, I’ve got eyes on him!” There was a bit of chatter and some form of coded SWAT communication that Geoff couldn’t understand, and then the unmistakable sentence that sent his class into a panic. “He’s definitely got an AR. Looks like an M16 from here. ”

Geoff was furious - first at whoever was sick enough to bring a fucking assault rifle to school, and second at the man who had announced its presence well within the earshot of terrified teenagers.

“Oh my god, that’s a gun, right? Somebody really brought a gun?”

“We’re gonna die, aren’t we?”

“Mr. W, what’s happening?!”

“Shh,” Geoff whispered urgently. “Shh, shh, shh. Listen to me. Listen to me. There are two things that I want you to know, alright? It is imperative that you are listening carefully." He looked over all of them. "Are you listening?”

They nodded.

“Good. First, the military says ‘run, hide, fight,’” he told them, ticking the list off on his fingers. “If you’re in a situation with a weapon - which we may or may not be, I'm not sure. But they say if you are, to run. If you can’t run, hide, which is what we’re doing now. And if you can’t hide, you fight. Alright? It will not come down to that. I promise. But if it does, you do whatever you have to.”

They all nodded again. Maddie continued crying.

“The second thing,” Geoff began, but he paused and took a moment to breathe and try to keep his voice from trembling. “The second thing is that I am here. No matter what happens, I will be here. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

“You can’t know th-”

“I will do everything I can to protect you,” Geoff continued smoothly. “I will not leave you. Not now, and not after this is over.”

Taylor scooted forward and wrapped her arms around Geoff. Geoff hugged her with the hand that wasn’t squeezing Maddie’s fingers.

“I’m really scared,” Chloe whispered.

Geoff gave her as much of a smile as he could muster. “I know. We are going to be fine, though. Everything’s going to be fine.”

The kids fell silent, aside from Maddie’s hushed sniffles.

One minute ticked by. Then two. Maddie slowly stopped crying. Geoff kept praying for the phone to ring again or the intercom to come to life, buzzing with news that the lockdown had been a false alarm, that everything was fine, to resume classes as scheduled.

After four hushed, tense minutes, Alex got a funny look on his face.

Geoff tilted his head, looking at him curiously. “What?”

Alex swallowed and fought the water that had welled up in his eyes. He shook his head.

“It’s alright,” Geoff said quietly, but all the kids were looking at Alex, and he looked back at them. He brought a hand up to cover his mouth, and he shut his eyes, which caused two tears to fall.

“Alex…” Geoff murmured.

Alex shook his head. The tears came faster and faster until Alex was audibly crying.

“What’s wrong?” Geoff felt so silly for asking; Alex was likely fearing for his life - and rightfully so. But the answer sent chills down Geoff’s arms.

“Awsten never came in.”

Geoff closed his eyes, his arm tightening around Taylor’s back as he started to worry for Awsten. And Michael, too, who was also missing. But Alex had said that Awsten was in the parking lot, which meant that by the time the phone rang, he definitely should have had time to make it into class.

“I’m sure he’s alright. I’m sure he’s-”

Geoff was cut off by an impossibly loud bang that made his blood run cold.

A gunshot.

It wasn’t far; it was actually close enough that Geoff was having trouble figuring out which direction it came from. But before he had time to think, Taylor and Maddie both softly shrieked, and all of the kids but Zack burst into tears. 

A lone, drawn out, strangled scream came from outside, raw and horrified. It was a sound that Geoff, as long as he lived, would never be able to forget.

“Shh, I know,” Geoff said urgently, quickly moving forward as his students all leaned toward him. “I know, I know, I know…” Frantically, he gathered them up in his arms as best he could and began to silently pray. “It’s okay. We’re going to be okay. The police are here, and they’re going to take care of this. I’m going to protect you. We’re going to be fine. Everything is going to be fine.”

Geoff had seen the videos - the ones where there were bodies lining the hallways, where teachers were laid motionless in pools of blood on the floor, where students were hysterical. Geoff felt helpless, and he knew one thing - no matter where the bullet had landed, there was no coming back from this. These kids would never be the same.

“Where’s Awsten?” Alex pleaded.

Maddie was back to sobbing again. “I want to call my parents!”

“I don’t want to die,” Cassadee added urgently.

“You won’t,” Geoff promised firmly. “No one in this room is going die today. Do you understand me?”

Geoff’s sentence was met only with sobs.

He ordered, “All of you, look at me. Right now.”

The kids obeyed.

“We are getting out of here. We are  _all_  getting out of here.” At the kids’ looks of disbelief, he continued, "We’re going to go home and have dinner tonight, and we’re going to read lots of books and hug our families every day, and everything is going to be fine.”

Everyone was quiet.

“How does that sound?”

“G-good,” Taylor murmured.

“Good,” Geoff repeated. “Now, come here.” He held out his arms again, and all of them except Zack huddled back in. Geoff gave him a sad smile, but Zack just steeled his jaw and looked vigilantly in the direction of the door.

Several minutes later, after the crying had calmed significantly, no more shots had been fired, and Geoff had started to truly believe that things were going to be alright, the phone rang.

Geoff got to his feet. “Stay here,” he told the students. He walked to the other side of the desk and reached for the phone, hoping for the best but still expecting the worst. “Hello?” he asked, but he was greeted by another automated message. As soon as the words reached his ears, he sagged in relief and put the call on speaker so that the kids could hear it.

“This is the all-clear,” the voice reported. “This is the all-clear. The situation has been handled. Stay where you are, and keep your door locked. Police will be by shortly to dismiss you.”

Maddie, Chloe, and Taylor began crying tears of relief, but it was clear that all of the students were still incredibly shaken.

“Dismiss us?” Cassadee asked sharply. “Can we go home?”

“I have no idea,” came Geoff’s honest reply. “I can’t imagine they’d ask us to stay after something like this. I’m sure all of your parents have been notified, and I expect they’re outside.”

Two minutes later, there was a banging on the door. “Police!”

After all the kids had been removed from the room, Geoff pulled one of the members of the SWAT team aside. “Two of my students are missing,” he reported, hoping that his desperation and panic weren’t audible in his voice. “I know one of them was definitely on campus this morning.”

“Names?” the man asked.

“Awsten Knight and Michael H-”

“Yes,” the officer nodded. “We have them both.”

“They’re alright?” Geoff asked, his entire body overwhelmed with relief.

“They’re both in police custody. But you should know, sir - and I hate to be the one to tell you this, but… one of them is deceased.”

 

* * *

 

** The Hallway Outside Room 121  
March 5, 8:32 AM **

_One of them is deceased. One of them is deceased. One of them is deceased._

The words repeated themselves in Geoff’s brain, steady and constant as a heartbeat. He numbly followed his students out of the room and into the hall, where another class was being dismissed, too. Just as he was catching up to his six seniors, he heard them begin to frantically murmur amongst themselves, sounding just as panicked as they had in the minutes before. Alex stopped short, bursting into tears all over again.

“Keep moving,” one of the SWAT men barked, and Geoff upped his pace to get to Alex.

“It's over now,” Geoff told him comfortingly. He slipped an arm around Alex’s shoulders. “Let’s find your aunt outside, alright?”

Alex didn’t respond, just shakily pointed. Geoff’s eyes followed his hand to a sea of liquid on the floor. It was dark, far too dark to be fresh blood. And then his eyes zeroed in on the upturned cardboard tray. He could just make out the name ‘Taylor’ scrawled on the side of a cup in Sharpie. There was only one student that randomly made coffee runs for the kids in his class that he wasn’t even close friends with.

Geoff’s eyes burned with emotion for the first time since this had all begun. He’d been so concerned with keeping his students calm that he had barely let himself feel anything. But now…

“It’s alright,” Geoff whispered. He pulled Alex along, away from the spill. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

_One of them is deceased._

The door had been blocked off with crime scene tape, and the courtyard as well. There were hundreds of parents and several news anchors behind the line, all clamoring. The whirring of helicopter blades, the chatter of police radios, and the flashing of red and white ambulance lights all attacked Geoff’s senses, but the students reuniting with their siblings and running to meet their mothers and fathers quickly distracted him.  He made sure all his kids ducked under the tape and found their families, and then he turned his back to them, looking in the direction where most of the emergency personnel were milling around.

“Michael?” he called softly. “Awsten?” He traveled tentatively toward the workers and upped his volume. “Michael? Awsten?”

_One of them is deceased._

He walked down past the edge of the main building and around the corner, and what he was suddenly able to see caused his heart to leap into his throat; EMTs were taking their time loading a stretcher covered in a white sheet into an ambulance. Geoff could feel himself start to lose it then. Someone had actually died that morning at Lakeview High School. Someone had  _actually_   _died._

“Michael? Awsten?” he called, half-yelling. He didn’t know which kid was alive and which kid was dead, and in that moment, he didn’t really care; he just wanted both of them to come walking around the corner and have it all be a big misunderstanding. “Michael! Awsten!”

“Hey,” one of the fireman snapped, making a beeline for Geoff, “keep your voice down.”

“Where are my kids?” Geoff asked frantically.

“Sir, you need to wait behind the line with the other parents.”

“No, no, I’m their teacher. Awsten and Michael - they’re both in my first period class, but they were missing. Where are they? Do you know?”

The man stared at him pityingly for a long moment.

“Please,” Geoff begged.

“Come with me,” the man sighed. He raised his voice as they walked. “Hey, Chief!”

A police officer turned around, walkie-talkie in hand.

“He says he’s their teacher,” the fireman explained, jerking his thumb in Geoff’s direction.

“I don’t care,” the man replied evenly. “I need him out of here. No one comes back here til we get this kid’s parents on the phone.”

“They’re in jail,” Geoff supplied, choking up. “That’s why they’re not answering.”

The cop raised his eyebrows. “No, they’re not. What?”

“A-Awsten Knight. His parents are in jail.”

“No, we’re not looking for his parents. We’re trying to get ahold of the family of the other one.” 

“Michael?” Geoff asked brokenly.

“Yeah.”

Geoff bowed his head, hot tears streaming down from his eyes before he could even make an attempt to stop them. Awsten was alive, but Michael was dead. But Awsten was alive. But Michael was dead.

Suddenly, Geoff remembered the scream that had come right after the gun had been fired. He demanded, “What the hell happened? Did Awsten bring a gun to school?!”

“Sir, we really need you to-”

“Please, he’s a good kid. He would never hurt anyone. He didn’t hurt Michael, did he?”

The officer glanced at the fireman, who shrugged as if to say, ‘Tell him.’

“No, he didn’t,” the cop said gruffly. “He's not hurt, and we've determined that he didn’t do anything wrong. That’s all I’m going to say right now.”

Geoff sighed heavily with relief as the man walked away. He glanced toward the parking lot a hundred or so feet away and caught sight of Taylor tightly hugging her mom and Alex and his aunt talking to three people that Geoff realized were Otto Wood and his parents. Alex had a panicked look on his face and was speaking quickly, gesturing along with his words. The longer he shared, the more worried Otto and his family looked. Alex caught sight of Geoff, and they headed toward each other.

“Where’s Awsten?” Alex asked, fear clear in his voice. “Did they tell you?”

“He’s alright,” Geoff answered warmly. He set his hands on Alex’s shoulders and leaned down a little to get closer to Alex's eye level. “He’s going to be just fine. The police told me that he’s safe and he didn’t do anything wrong.” Geoff guided a tearful Alex back to the Wood family, where he relayed the information to them as well. He was careful to leave Michael out of it.

“What on earth happened?” Mrs. Wood asked.

“I don’t know,” Geoff admitted. “I thought you might have heard something.”

“No, they’re keeping us all in the dark.”

The engine turned over in the ambulance that was secretly carrying Michael’s body, and Geoff watched as it drove carefully down the concrete and out of the courtyard with all its lights off. Cops were streaming out of the school as well, and it reminded Geoff of the fearful look in Awsten’s eyes when he’d whispered to Geoff that he hated the police station.

Awsten.

“Hey, where’s Awsten Knight?” he called to them.

No answer.

“Stay here,” Geoff instructed the small group he’d been talking to, and he jogged around the building again toward the remaining emergency personnel. “Could you tell me where Awsten Knight is?” God, he may as well have been invisible. It was like he was in some movie where he’d woken up as a ghost. Anxiety started clawing at his chest and digging in its talons. “Awsten?” Geoff called, heading further toward the football field where the commotion had been. Now that the ambulance had pulled away, he could see an ocean of blood. Blood and… oh, god. Geoff shuddered and fought the sudden, overwhelming urge to vomit. “AWSTEN!” he shouted, panicking slightly. He turned in a circle, looking every which way. “Where the hell is Awsten Knight?!”

 

* * *

 

** Lakeview High School Courtyard  
March 5, 8:41 AM **

“Geoff!” John called. He jogged down the steps, following a stream of kids out of the building and rushing to embrace his friend. “Are you alright? Have you heard anything?”

“It’s my kids,” Geoff said shakily. “It’s my kids. It’s my kids-”

“Come here,” John murmured, and he took Geoff by the shoulder and steered him away from all the commotion. “What are you talking about? What the hell happened?”

“I don’t know,” Geoff told him weakly. “I don’t know, they just - they weren’t in class, and now one of them is dead, and-”

“What?!”

And then Geoff saw it: a shock of purple hair slowly making its way to the parking lot between two police offers.

“Awsten,” Geoff breathed, but the calm barely lasted two seconds before his heart seized up again.

The boy was completely soaked with blood. His hair and face were spattered with it, it was running down his neck in streaks, and the rest of his body, from his t-shirt to his shoes, was coated entirely. He looked like someone had doused him with a bucket of reddish-brown paint.

Awsten slowly lifted his head and started blankly scanning the remaining parents waiting for their children, but his eye caught Geoff standing off to the side. As soon as Awsten read the relief on Geoff’s face, he broke into a run. Geoff was pretty sure he’d never been so overwhelmed with relief in his life as he was when he saw his student make a break for him.

Awsten ran across the courtyard, and Geoff moved quickly toward him, holding an arm out to catch him.Awsten slammed into Geoff, grabbing onto him like his life depended on it. He dug his bloody fingers hard into Geoff’s back.

“Awsten,” Geoff whispered. “Awsten, oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god.” Geoff held him so tightly he was sure that it hurt, but he couldn’t help himself. He’d been so worried. And one of his students was dead, but this one was alive. He was alive. Geoff squeezed him closer.

Awsten just held on.

Geoff could feel the boy’s ragged breaths against his own chest, far too shallow to be effective and far too rapid to be doing Awsten any good. Geoff assumed that Awsten was crying, but when he pulled back to look at Awsten’s face, it became clear that he wasn't; it seemed more like he was having some sort of dazed panic attack.

The police came up to where Geoff was holding his student, but they didn’t speak or intervene, just let Awsten finally have a moment to be comforted.

“I’ve got you,” Geoff promised. He buried one of his hands in Awsten’s hair and kept the other hand pressed steadily on his back, right at the bottom of his rib cage. “It’s over now. It’s over now.”

Awsten grabbed a fistful of Geoff’s shirt in each hand and involuntarily let out a hoarse, broken sound. That was when Geoff realized - it had been Awsten that had screamed outside during the lockdown. Geoff’s burning tears welled up again. He leaned down so that the side of his cheek was pressed against Awsten’s hair, right above his ear. “I’ve got you,” he repeated fervently. “You’re safe.”

“I tried to stop him,” Awsten whimpered.

“I know,” Geoff soothed. “And it’s over now. It’s done.”

“Aws!” came a shout, and Geoff looked up to see two skinny teenagers racing toward him. They crashed wildly into Geoff and Awsten.

Awsten flinched and looked up and, with a trembling hand, let go of Geoff with one hand in favor of latching onto Otto.

Both boys gasped as they saw Awsten’s clothes and skin.

“Wh-why are you covered in blood?” Alex whispered.

“He’s dead,” Awsten replied, almost conversationally.

“Who’s dead?” Alex hysterically demanded.

Awsten didn’t respond, but it didn’t matter to Otto. He paled. “Awsten, no…”

“Saw him,” Awsten nodded. God, he sounded like a little kid again, just like the time he'd been telling Geoff what his parents had done. “Watched him do it. He’s dead now.”

Otto elbowed between Awsten and Geoff so he could wrap Awsten in a tight hug, which Awsten accepted. “Mom and Dad are here. We’re gonna go home,” Otto said into Awsten’s shoulder. He was so quiet that Geoff almost missed it.

“I can’t,” Awsten whispered. “They’re making me go give a report.” He shook his head. “I don’t want to.” He looked up at Geoff. “I really don’t want to. Please don’t make me go. Mr. W, please. I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Geoff had no say in the matter, but of course Awsten couldn’t realize that right then. “One thing at a time,” he said softly, “alright?”

Awsten turned away and buried his face in Otto’s shoulder.

“Awsten, come on, sweetheart,” one of the police said. Her eyes were kind, but her voice was firm. “We have to go now.”

“No,” he begged. “I wanna go with Otto.”

“I’ll come with you,” Otto promised. “Wherever they make you go, I’m there.”

Awsten nodded and then looked up at Geoff. “Will you come, too? Please. I don’t - I don’t want to go without you.”

“Of course. I’ll be there.”

Awsten nodded, slightly relaxed.

Still, Geoff’s heart ached as he watched a frightened, innocent Awsten led away by the police for the second time in a week. Awsten’s friends trailed behind them.

“Geoff…”

Finally, he noticed Annie and John standing a few feet away, both looking at him with extreme concern written on their faces.

“I have to go,” Geoff said shortly, turning on his heel and heading straight for his car.

“Geoff!”

 

* * *

 

** Lakeview Police Station  
March 5, 9:04 AM **

“Awsten, I want you to walk me through what happened this morning,” the police lady said gently. “Every detail is important to us, okay? Even if it doesn’t seem like it.”

Awsten nodded. He’d been through this process multiple times before, and he knew the way it worked. He was pretty sure his file had to be at least an inch thick at this point. He wondered if Otto even had a file.

At Teri’s request, the cops had allowed Awsten to wash his hands and his face, but he was still sitting in blood-soaked clothes. He’d been able to feel the red liquid squelching in his shoes with every step he took from the patrol car into the building. He was convinced that when he stood up, it would have seeped into and stained the fabric of the chair, too.

Mr. W was seated on his right (still a little tinged with some blood from the hug), and Otto’s father filled the chair on his other side, his knuckles white where he clenched them in fists. Awsten had refused to give his testimony without Mr. W beside him, and he’d fought to have Otto in the room, too, but both the police and Otto’s parents had said no to that. Regardless, Otto promised he’d be right outside the door.

“Um,” Awsten muttered.

Part of him desperately wanted to lie and say that he didn’t remember anything. It would be so easy to tell them that he couldn’t recall the feel of icy metal on his neck, had forgotten that the gunshot was so searingly loud that his ears rang from it for several minutes. But that would just delay this, and he wanted to get it over with. It wasn’t like the movies, anyway; Awsten hadn't blacked anything out. He could remember every goddamn second of his morning.

“I got to school at 7:58,” he mumbled, looking down at his fingers. There were remnants of brown blood caked under his nails. “Otto brought me earlier, but I walked to the Starbucks down the street so I could get coffee for Taylor and Maddie. I hadn’t brought them any in a while.” He looked up. “Um, Taylor and Maddie are two girls from my first period. Mr. W’s class.”

“And this is Mr. W, right?” the lady checked, pointing.

Mr. W nodded.

“Yeah,” Awsten confirmed. “So as I was walking into school, I texted Alex - um, Gaskarth - to tell Mr. W that I was on my way in. The second bell rang, like, right as I was coming through the front door, and Mr. W’s room is toward the end of the hall, like, down by the offices, you know? And since I’m on probation or whatever now, I’m not supposed to be late, so I was kind of hurrying. But then I saw Michael at the end by the auditorium, so I got distracted.”

Awsten paused, waiting for someone to ask a question or something, but everyone just kept looking at him expectantly, so he continued. “Um, I called down to him to ask if he wanted the fourth coffee." He backtracked to explain. "When I get Starbucks, I get one for me, two for other people in my class, and one that I don’t know who I’m going to give it to. Sometimes when I get to school, I try to guess who needs it the most, like if they’re sad or something, or I’ll just pick randomly. I heard Maddie’s parents are getting divorced, and I know everyone’s still being mean to Taylor for literally no reason, so I thought they could use something good. But I hadn't picked my fourth person yet.”

Mr. W was looking at Awsten with his eyebrows raised. Awsten didn’t think anything of it.

“But anyway, I asked him if he wanted the extra one, cause he didn’t look happy. Me and him aren’t really friends, but I…” He swallowed. “I always kinda thought it was cause we were so alike.” He looked away, trying to brush off the anxious feelings that came with that admission. “Like, neither of us pay attention in class or do our work. And we both dye our hair crazy colors and have weird friends and listen to the same kind of music. But he’s quiet. He smokes weed behind the batting cages and stuff, but I don’t. I, like. Talk back to teachers. And cuss in class.”

Awsten laced and unlaced his fingers a few times. The cops and Otto’s dad and Mr. W remained silent.

“So anyway, he was in the hall, and I yelled to ask him if he wanted the coffee, but he didn’t say anything, which wasn’t that weird, but he usually at least nods or something. But he didn’t. He just stood there. I was still walking to Mr. W’s room, so I was getting closer to Michael, and I could see something in his hand. I didn’t know what it was, partially cause my eyes are fucking terrible, but also cause he seemed like he was trying to hide it. But yeah, obviously now it was a gun. Like, a really big one you’d see in a war movie. One of the modern war movies, though, not like a… what’s the one with the big knife on the end? Not one of those. It was like something from Iron Man. You know that part in the first one where he’s in the desert with the military?”

Awsten knew he probably sounded dumb, but, despite living in Texas, it wasn't like he’d ever taken the time to look up names of fucking firearms. And the lady said every detail counted, so Awsten was doing his best.

“Once he saw me looking at it, he pointed it right at me. I was so freaked out that I dropped the coffee. It burned my leg, but I was a little too busy to care. I mean, he had a fucking machine gun pointed at me.”

Otto’s dad reached out and placed his hand over Awsten’s.

“My mind went blank. Just - it didn’t occur to me then that this could turn into a shooting, or that he'd brought a gun to school, or that we were standing in the middle of the goddamn hallway. All of that just, like, went away. It felt like me and him were just standing there alone and he was  _definitely_ gonna shoot me, and it was  _definitely_ gonna hurt. That was all I could think. I was tensed up all over. And I felt like we were standing there for an hour, but it might have just been like, four seconds. I don’t know. Time is weird. Um, but yeah, after a little bit, my brain kinda figured out what was going on, I guess, cause I realized that literally no one else knew this was happening. No one knew he had a gun or anything, so no one was gonna help. That meant I had to help myself.”

Awsten swallowed. “And cause the halls were empty, I told him a lie.” He looked down at his shoes. “I told him there was an assembly… I didn’t want him to do anything to me or to anybody else. And I was pretty sure he wouldn’t believe me, but I knew I had to try to stop him, so I did the only thing I could think of, which was to try to get him out of the building. I knew if he stayed, he’d hurt somebody, and I didn’t want anybody else to feel as scared as I felt.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Awsten noticed Mr. W press his fingertips over his mouth. He didn’t turn his head, though, and he didn’t stop speaking.

“So he told me to come with him.” Awsten shifted uncomfortably. He’d never been so terrified in his life, and yet there he’d been, walking towards the thing that had scared the shit out of him.  “He grabbed me and put the end of the gun in my back. I started crying,” he confessed, “but I kept going, cause I just kept thinking that if I stopped, things were gonna get bad - for me, and for everybody else. I had to get him away from the building. Nothing else mattered.”

He let his eyes drift to where the officer was jotting notes on a pad. “I told him everybody was at an assembly on the football field, so we went out the back door that leads right to it. Some of the classroom doors were open while we were walking out, and I wanted to yell for help, but I knew if I did that…” He trailed off.

Otto’s dad squeezed his hand, and Mr. W’s warm fingers curled around Awsten’s forearm. Comforted, Awsten took a deep breath and resumed the story.

“I knew if I did that, he would definitely pull the trigger, and I would die. So I didn’t say anything.”

Awsten turned his palm over so he could hold Otto’s dad’s hand. It was stupid; he was seventeen, almost eighteen, but somehow, the feeling of a larger hand covering his still reassured him. Otto’s dad seemed glad to be able to do something to help, anyway.

“Once we were out the door and he saw there was no one there, he, um. He…” Awsten lifted his free hand to cover his face.

Mr. W started lightly rubbing Awsten’s back, and Awsten glanced up at him for the first time since they'd left the school. Even though Mr. W tried to smile, the pain on Mr. W’s face was too much. The boy shut down as suddenly as if a switch had been flipped inside his brain.

“He used the gun to push me across the field,” Awsten muttered emptily, “and we were right past the middle where you guys found us. And he was talking a lot, and then he shot himself, and then you were there, and now I'm here. The end.”

The cop blinked in surprise at his sudden shift. “Awsten-”

“That’s it. I don’t want to talk anymore.”

“We need to know what he said to you. Could you tell me more about that?”

“No.”

Mr. W’s gentle voice broke the tension in the room. “Would you like to take a break?” he asked softly.

Awsten opened his mouth to say yes, but he closed it before he could speak. If he stopped now, he’d never start again.

“I'm sure it’s not a problem if you'd prefer to come back and finish in a few minutes,” Mr. W added.

After a deep breath, Awsten shook his head. “No, I’ll… I’ll do it now.”

"Alright."

“Thank you, Awsten,” the lady said sincerely. “Everything you remember, okay?”

Awsten nodded. God, he wished he’d skipped the Starbucks and just gone to class. Then he wouldn't be stuck in the frigid room. But it wasn’t his fault - it was Michael’s. Fucking Michael.

“He was spouting all this bullshit - like, about how he’s ‘better’ than other people and how no one really ‘sees’ him and stuff…”

“Was it racially charged?”

“No, but it was definitely…” He shrugged one shoulder. “Fucked up. I don’t know. He just - I guess he thinks he deserves more respect or something, and he was going to force people to give it to him. By killing them, I guess, which makes no fucking sense.”

“Language,” she murmured.

He shrugged again and sat back in his chair, sealing Mr. W’s hand on his back.

“So then what happened?” she prompted.

“I started telling him that he-” He stopped short as his mind flooded with memories of Michael’s gray-green eyes boring into his, of the bang of the gunshot, of the panic ripping through him, of the way blood had streamed freely from Michael’s mouth and nose like something out of a fucking horror movie. Awsten hadn’t even known that was possible. The image was too much, and Awsten let out an almost inaudible whimper and covered his face with both hands.

The room was silent. He could feel all the adults staring at him, and he wanted to leave, he fucking did, but he just had to get through this. Shove the feelings down again, and finish it. Come on. Man up.

Awsten sat back up, dropped his hands onto his knees, and tonelessly said, “I started telling him that he didn’t have to do anything, didn’t have to… to hurt anybody. Me, or him, or anybody else. That we could work it out - we could talk about it. And I had no idea how, but I was honestly just stalling. All I could think was that I didn’t want to die at school. And I didn’t-”  He choked up again, and tears flooded his eyes. His voice broke. “I didn’t want Otto to find out what happened to me…”

Otto’s dad reached over and wrapped Awsten in a hug. Awsten leaned into him and wrapped his fingers around the hem of one of Otto’s dad’s big t-shirt sleeves as he allowed himself a few seconds of weakness. He let out a shaky sob and then sat back up, wiping at his eyes. It seemed that Otto’s dad would have held him a lot longer, based on the way he let go so reluctantly, but Awsten knew that if he broke down now, he didn’t have a chance in hell of finishing his testimony.

“So I kept talking and hoping that someone had seen something or knew something, and if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s running my mouth. That’s what I get in trouble for the most. I can’t, um.” He gave Mr. W a sad smile. “I can’t shut up.” His gaze traveled back to the cop. “You can ask anyone; they'll tell you. So I was asking him stuff, like about his friends and what chapters we were supposed to read for homework and stuff, but he I guess decided after a while that he’d had enough, so he just went ahead and stuck the gun in his mouth.”

Mr. W’s hand tensed on Awsten’s back.

“Is there anything specific you remember him saying?” the lady asked.

Monotonously, he listed, “Um, ‘you’re lucky I didn’t put a bullet between your eyes,’ ‘you think I’ll be famous after this?’ ‘I shouldn’t have listened to you. I should just kill you. You deserve to die.’”

The cop wrote, and Awsten, still plagued by the images of what Michael had done to himself, pressed his hands over the top of his purple hair, as if to confirm that there was no hole there. When he found that there wasn’t, he ran his fingers over his cheeks, checking for rivers of blood spilling down his skin. His fingers darted around and around his face and onto the top of his head until the woman looked up and noticed what he was doing.

“You’re alright,” she assured him.

“It’s just - gross,” he explained, almost curiously. “Him falling apart like that. He fired the gun, and his whole body just fell apart…”

Mr. W turned away and tried to hide a soft sob.

“Awsten, we’ll get you someone to talk about that with, okay?” the police officer promised. “Right now, I need you tell me in detail what happened right before Michael ended his life.”

“He just did,” Otto’s dad interrupted. “Hasn’t he been through enough?”

“Mr. Wood, with all due respect, a child is dead.”

“Exactly. He’s dead. He's a maniac that brought a weapon to school, intending to harm lord knows how many people, and Awsten watched him blow his brains out-"

Awsten flinched at the words.

"-and now he’s dead. He’s dead! Awsten isn’t, thank God. But he’s had a hell of a morning, and if you don’t mind, my wife and I would like to take him home.”

“We just need to know-”

“I don’t think you’re hearing me,” Otto’s dad growled, but Awsten’s soft plea stopped both the adults.

“Please don’t argue.”

Otto’s dad softened immediately. “Son, we can go home-”

“No, I can do it. I can keep going,” he protested. “I don’t want anybody else to fight because of me.”

“Excuse me,” Mr. W murmured suddenly, getting to his feet and briskly walking out of the room.

Awsten watched him go, wondering if he’d said the wrong thing.

“We’re leaving,” Otto’s dad said firmly. “Come on, Awsten. Let’s go.”

But Awsten begged, “No, I don’t want to have to come back. I can keep going. I can do more.”

Otto's dad leaned down to look him in the eyes. “No, honey. We’re not doing any more. I'm drawing the line, okay? I wouldn’t let Otto do more, and I’m not letting you do more, either. I'm sorry; I know that's not what you want to hear. But as a dad, I can't let you stay here. Let’s go home, okay?”

“Okay. But I have to sign this before we can go,” Awsten said, pointing at the papers lying on the desk.

“He’s right,” the cop noted. She stopped the recording and sifted through the papers until she found the ones she was looking for.

Awsten glanced over them and scribbled his name and the date on both pages she handed him. Then Otto’s dad wrapped his arm around Awsten’s shoulders and opened the door for him.

The officer called after them, “If you think of anything else-”

“Yeah, we know; we'll call,” Otto’s dad sighed, but Awsten had already walked away from him and was rushing straight for Otto’s open arms. The two best friends collided.

“Are you okay?” Otto asked worriedly.

“I‘m fine,” Awsten lied.

“Let’s get out of here,” Otto’s dad said to them all.

There was a hand on Awsten’s shoulder, but it was too gentle to be Otto’s father again. Awsten looked up and saw Mr. W, whose eyes were now tinged pink.

“Mr. W,” Awsten blurted, and he let go of Otto and stepped easily into Mr. W’s space, wrapping his arms around the English teacher again.

Mr. W held Awsten close to his chest. “I gave Otto’s mother my telephone number,” he told Awsten, “so if you need anything, please reach out.”

Awsten didn’t say anything, just stared absently at the tile floor as they embraced.

“You were incredibly brave today,” Mr. W added, and Awsten couldn’t help but notice the way his voice shook.

“Thanks for coming back here with me,” Awsten whispered.

“Of course,” Mr. W replied, squeezing him a little tighter before letting him go.

“You ready, baby?” Otto’s mom asked. She brushed some of Awsten’s hair back from his forehead.

Awsten nodded, but he didn’t miss the way her eyes went wide after she touched him. He knew there was still dried blood resting in his hair.

“Alright.” She sighed and pulled Otto under one arm and Awsten under the other. She squeezed them to her sides as they headed out of the building. “My boys,” she said softly.

Still, Awsten could hear the men having a hushed conversation behind him.

“Take care of him.”

“Oh, we will.”

“Like I told Awsten, I gave your wife my number. Please don’t hesitate to call if you need anything at all.”

“Take care of yourself, too,” Otto’s dad said softly. “I can’t even imagine. A class full of kids during something like that… And this Michael, he was one of yours, too, wasn't he?” There was a pause, and then Otto's father continued, “Awsten speaks very highly of you. He’s always had an awful lot of trouble with adults, but he just loves you.”

The door swung shut behind them before Awsten could hear Mr. W's reply.

Awsten slid into the backseat beside Otto, and within seconds, their bodies were pressed together. Awsten laid his head on Otto’s shoulder, and Otto rested his head on Awsten’s. Desperate for relief, Awsten closed his eyes, but all he could see was a growing puddle of red.

He snapped his eyes open again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> geoff has a class full of students during a lockdown situation. a gun is fired, but not in the room. there is a scene of the aftermath, slightly chaotic but not violent - other than a brief description of someone covered in someone else's blood.  
> afterwards, a long report is given to police. this includes some more mentions/descriptions of blood, some weird stuff that was said, and some weird stuff someone does to try to remind their brain that they're okay.


	5. Interlude

Otto walked Awsten up to their shared room and watched silently as Awsten kicked off his shoes, shoved down his blood-soaked jeans, and peeled off his newly dark brown t-shirt. Otto followed suit, removing his sneakers and jeans and climbing up onto the top bunk. Awsten pulled his socks off but left his boxers on as he walked into the bathroom. Dad strode in right as Awsten shut the door and turned on the water. 

"You okay?" Dad asked.

Otto nodded.

"Is he?"

Otto shrugged helplessly. 

"Alright. I'll be back in a minute, okay, honey?"

Otto nodded again.

Dad knocked on the door to the bathroom. "Awsten, it's me. Can I come in?"

"No."

Dad's eyes fell closed. "I'm not going to look at you; the doctors just want somebody to be in there with you while you shower. We can't have you alone right now."

Awsten was quiet for a minute. "Otto can come."

"An adult, honey." 

"No."

Dad leaned his head against the doorjamb. "This isn't really a choice, kiddo. I'm sorry. I know it's uncomfortable, but you've either got to leave the door open or let me or my wife in with you."

Otto was about to offer to try to reason with Awsten when the lock clicked off and the door opened a few inches.

"Thank you, son," Dad murmured. He sat down in the doorway, positioned so that he was giving Awsten his privacy but still present in case anything happened. Once he was settled, he gave Otto a tired smile, one that Otto read as an invitation to come sit. He hopped down from the top bunk and slipped over to his father, curling up and settling into his side. Dad lifted an arm over his shoulders and pulled him in tightly to kiss the side of his head. "I love you." 

"I love you, too." 

Awsten spent the better part of an hour under the stream, apparently scrubbing his skin raw. He was pink everywhere when he got out - Otto could see it even under the pajamas he was borrowing - and it clearly wasn't just from the heat of the water.

Dad gave long hugs to both boys before taking a seat in Otto's desk chair as they climbed into their beds. The only sound in the room was that of Awsten twisting and turning under the covers as he tried to get comfortable. Then -

“Otto?” came Awsten’s voice after a few minutes.

“Yeah?” 

Silence. 

“You okay?” Otto asked. And of course he wasn’t okay, but Otto didn’t know what else to say.

“Yeah,” Awsten whispered. 

“Okay.” 

Awsten elaborated, “I just wanted to make sure you’re still there.” 

Normally, that remark would remind Otto of the day he and Awsten were in the bathroom in kindergarten when it was thundering outside, and Awsten was afraid, but Otto was pretending to be brave. Normally, it would take him back to the time in sixth grade that Awsten had called in the middle of the night crying, and Otto’s mom had answered the phone and woken Otto up, and they’d talked to him until he felt ready to go back to bed. Normally, it would make him feel strong and needed and special. Normally, it would make smile. 

Not today.

“I’m still here,” Otto assured. 

“Okay.”  

Otto and Awsten didn’t speak after that. 

 

* * *

 

The light in the room had begun to dim when Otto woke a while later. Dad must have closed the shades at some point. Otto swallowed and sat up, and then he peeked over the railing to make sure Awsten was still in the bed below his. He was. 

Otto sighed, lying back down. He closed his eyes as the details of that morning rushed back to him like water down a hill. He fumbled around beside his pillow for his phone and checked the time; five-thirty. 

He had several texts from other students - some that he didn’t even know had his number - trying to figure out what exactly had happened and how Awsten had been involved, but he ignored all of them except the ones from Alex.

_Spent the day at the police station,_ Otto wrote. _Got home a couple hours ago. Aws is napping._

_Are you guys ok?? Can I call?_ came the immediate reply.

_We’re good. And maybe later. He’s still asleep and we’re in my room._

As he straightened back up, he was sure to stay quiet for Awsten, who, judging by the state of the blankets, had continued tossing and turning in his sleep. He tiptoed down the ladder and crossed the floor as silently as he could. Then he headed downstairs, closing the bedroom door behind himself even though Dad (presumably) had left it open. 

There was music on in the kitchen like usual, and Otto noted the aroma of pasta sauce before he even got all the way down the stairs. 

“Mom,” he said softly.

She turned and smiled worriedly. “Hey, baby.” 

Otto tucked his hands into the pockets of his zip hoodie and headed toward her, not taking them out as he leaned into her shoulder. 

She wrapped him into a hug and kissed his head. “Did you get some sleep?”

“Yeah.” 

“Does Awsten want dinner?” 

Otto shrugged one shoulder. “He’s still asleep.” 

“Do you think we should wake him?” 

Otto shrugged tiredly again. “I don’t know.” 

Sensing that he didn’t want to discuss it further, Mom dropped it. “Okay, honey.” She stood still, holding him and rubbing his back until the timer went off. A reluctant smile graced her features as she pulled back. “Does ravioli sound alright?”

“Yeah,” he answered truthfully. 

“I made some garlic bread, too.”

Otto nodded. “I’ll set the table.”

“No, Otto, that’s alright, honey-”

“I want to.” And he did. He was sure he would go fucking crazy if he kept thinking. Doing something would be good for him.

Mom watched as Otto wandered over to the drawer that held all the silverware. Soon, Dad came in from outside, and the three of them sat down to dinner. It was like normal… almost.

“So what did Awsten say? Like, at the station?” Otto asked softly, lifting a forkful of peas to his mouth. 

His parents traded a glance, and then his dad suggested, “Let’s talk about something else.”

Otto gave him a look. “What did he say? If he’s sleeping in my room, I think I kind of need to know.” He wasn’t angry or sarcastic; both his voice and demeanor remained as calm and reasonable as they always did. “I get why you didn’t want me in there while it was happening, but can you give me an edited version?” 

Otto watched as his dad looked to his mom for permission before he began speaking. 

“I… He…” Dad bowed his head and stared down at his plate. “Michael, the boy with the gun?”

Otto nodded.

“He brought it in the school. Awsten happened to be in the hallway at the same time as Michael. He stood up to him and walked him outside.” He swallowed. “He saved everyone.”

Mom reached over to squeeze her husband’s hand. 

“He saved everyone,” Dad repeated, a little gruffly. 

Otto let the words sink in for several moments. The only sounds in the room were the quiet scraping of his parents' forks and the crunch of their crust. 

“Right after it happened,” Otto began slowly, “and Awsten was with Mr. W in the courtyard, and Alex and I went up to him, he said that he, um. Watched Michael actually… do it.” 

“Yes.”

“He saw him die?” Otto reiterated.

“Uh-huh.”

“Like… pull the trigger, and he’s bleeding and everything?”

Mom loudly set her fork down. Dad nodded.

Otto nodded back, wondering what to ask. “He’s gonna be… messed up, then, isn’t he?” he murmured.

“Maybe for a little while,” Mom supplied. “We’ll just have to wait and see how he does. But his social worker put us in contact with a few therapists, and we already made some calls while you guys were sleeping.” She looked at him and said carefully, “If you’re interested in that, too, we can-”

“No,” Otto answered immediately. “No, I don’t want t- I’m fine. I’m just worried about him.” 

“Well, they keep telling us take it one day at a time,” Mom told him. “There’s not much research on people that have been through what Awsten’s been through, so we need to be patient and just try to be respectful of however he’s feeling.” She smiled at him. “I know you’re already very good at that job. But this is going to be… a little different.”

“Okay,” Otto said softly.

The rest of dinner ran more normally; Otto talked a little about wondering when school would resume, but his parents told him that the news already reported that there would definitely be no classes the next day. He also wondered aloud about a funeral or a memorial or something and whether he would attend. He didn’t say it, but he thought that he probably would. Despite the nasty ending that morning, he and Michael used to be close friends.

Once the small family was done eating, all of them brought their dishes to the counter. But instead of excusing himself to do homework to get out of the chore, Otto wordlessly began helping his mom wash and dry. She smiled at him and pressed the button on the little stereo to turn the music back on. 

Otto had forgotten how simple it was to lend a hand at the sink. The steam in the air was kind of nice, and the whole thing was done in less than four minutes. Mom seemed really happy, too; she ran a hand over his cheek as they wrapped up. Otto closed the dishwasher, and a scream shattered the air. 

The kitchen went dead silent, and then Mom bolted toward the staircase. 

“AWSTEN?” came Dad’s voice from upstairs. 

Otto hurried up to his bedroom after Mom. His heart was in his throat, and his hands were shaky. He stopped short in the doorway; it was still dark in the room, but Dad was sitting on the edge of Awsten’s bed, shaking his shoulder. 

“Awsten, wake up,” he said firmly. “Wake up. You’re dreaming; it’s okay. Wake up.” 

Mom turned the light on and kept Otto back. 

Awsten’s eyes stayed closed. And then he screamed again. “NO!” 

Otto turned away, into Mom’s neck, and pressed his lips tightly together. _Please make it stop, please make it stop, please make it stop,_ he prayed. 

“Awsten,” Dad implored. “Awsten, son… come on, wake up. I need you to wake up.” 

There was a stutter of breath and a sigh of relief, and Otto turned back around. Dad had pulled Awsten up to sit, and Awsten, who now had his eyes open, was resting limply against his chest. His gaze was unfocused, like he was still seeing whatever he’d been dreaming about that prompted his voice to come out all strangled like that. 

Otto started toward him, but Mom held him back again. “Let him stay with your father,” she said softly, so Awsten wouldn’t hear. 

Otto just watched helplessly as Awsten tried to catch his breath and figure out where he was and what was going on. 

Of course, Awsten’s only coping mechanism was to start rapidly speaking. “I wanted to go to creative writing club,” he babbled, still half-asleep. “It's Wednesday. I wanted to go to creative writing club with Mr. W and Emily. I was supposed to go. I liked it there. It was fun. I was even gonna make sure not to get detention so I wouldn't be late.” 

Dad just held him and listened. 

“But school stopped early, and it was my fault. We didn't get to go to writing club cause of me. He’s dead, and it’s my fault.”

“No,” Dad protested immediately.

“I tried to save him. I didn’t want him to do that; I told him not to. I told him to stop. And - and his face, there was a-” He broke off into a weak groan, turning to hide his eyes in Dad's shirt. “He ruined his whole face. His -"

“Otto, come on, honey,” Mom murmured, speaking a little loudly so Otto didn’t hear the rest of Awsten’s sentence. He was almost glad when she led him out of the room. He didn’t think he wanted to hear what Awsten had to say. 

 

* * *

 

Some time later, Mom coaxed Awsten downstairs and got him to eat the plate that she had tucked into the fridge for him. Otto sat beside him at the table, but Awsten didn’t seem interested in speaking anymore. He inhaled the food, and soon after that, he disappeared back into Otto’s bedroom. Otto followed him there, too, watching as he began feigning sleep.

“I know you’re awake,” Otto told him, “but I’ll leave you alone if that’s what you want.”

Awsten didn’t move. 

“Okay. Well, um, I love you. I’m gonna go see my mom and dad, okay?”

No response.

Otto headed to his parents’ room, where he knocked lightly on the door. 

“Everything alright?” Mom asked as he peeked in.

“Yeah. Um, he got back in bed.”

“He asleep?”

“No, but he wanted to be alone. I… I wondered if I could stay with you guys for a little while.”

Both his parents smiled. “Of course,” Dad replied. 

Just like when he was a kid, he climbed up the center of the bed and settled between their pillows. “What are you guys going to watch?”

“Well, we were debating. Mom wants to watch Wall-E. I think we should watch Finding Nemo. Care to be our tie-breaker?” 

Otto raised his eyebrows at those choices. His parents were more the war movie type. “Um. Both sound good.”

“But doesn’t Wall-E sound better?” Mom asked, winking at him conspiratorially.

Otto shrugged. “I really don’t care.” 

Dad eventually conceded, so Wall-E it was. Dad got up at one point to check on Awsten and, upon returning, claimed that he was asleep. Otto had a feeling that he was still just faking, though. By the time the movie was over, Otto made his decision; he was going to talk to his parents about what had been on his mind. 

The credits began to roll, and Mom reached for the remote.

“I’m gonna get ready for bed,” Otto said, standing up and dismissing himself. 

“Okay. Thanks for coming to spend time with us,” Mom smiled. 

“Night, son,” Dad added.

Otto slipped into the hall and down to his dark bedroom. “Hey. You still up?” Otto asked, his voice a little scratchy. 

Silence.

“Alright,” Otto sighed. He changed into a big t-shirt and pajama shorts and then turned in the direction of the lower bunk. “I’m gonna go back and talk to my parents for a little bit. We’re there if you need us, okay?” More silence. “I don't know if I'm sleeping there or in here. Is that cool? Like, if I stay there?" 

Otto waited a few moments, thinking that his question might actually warrant a response, but apparently it didn't. He remembered that Mom said they needed to be patient with him and that he was going to be unpredictable for a little while. Otto tried to take Awsten's attempt at coping less personally. 

"Love you, Aws. Night.” Otto exited the room and went into the bathroom to brush his teeth. He was glad that there was no school tomorrow; it had gotten late, and he knew that he wasn’t going to be falling asleep any time soon. 

Mom looked surprised when Otto walked back in. “Hey. I thought you were going to bed.”

“Can I talk to you guys?” he asked quietly.

“Course,” Dad replied while Mom inquired, “About what?”

“Michael.” 

The air in the room changed, but only slightly. 

“Of course,” they answered together.

Otto nodded and slid back into his spot between them, but he slipped under the covers this time. His parents were quiet, watching and waiting, so he said, “When you guys are ready for bed.” 

Mom moved quickly to the bathroom, and Otto heard the sink turn on in mere seconds. Dad, on the other hand, took his time. 

Otto tried to imagine what it would be like to be a parent in this situation, and he felt a little bit bad for asking to talk about it. But he supposed if he was a dad and his kid had been in a school shooting, as hard as it would be, he’d probably be relieved that his kid wanted to talk about it at all. 

Mom came back in a pajama set and snuggled in beside him, wrapping her arms around him for what felt like the hundredth time that day. Dad made his way into the room a few moments later, and Otto requested, “Can you turn the light off?”  
  
Dad obliged.

“Okay. Um… I never told you guys this,” Otto started. “Remember that summer when Zack had the swim party in his neighborhood for his birthday? The summer before sixth grade?”

His eyes hadn’t adjusted to the new darkness yet, so he couldn’t see whether his parents had nodded, but he figured at least one of them had.

“Um, Awsten and me were hanging out there, but we’d been there all day, and he was tired cause that was when his parents had just stopped feeding him, so-”

“What?” Mom interrupted. 

Otto ignored her and kept going. “-he wanted to go home and rest, but I stayed cause you weren’t coming til dinner time. I didn’t know if I could walk him home and be back by then, and I didn’t want you to worry… Anyway, I was tired, too, and I don’t really know why I didn’t take a break or something, but I guess I was having fun or not paying attention or something, because all of a sudden, I just couldn’t keep my head up anymore. I was going up and then sinking, going up and sinking, and I was scared, but I didn't want to say anything. I didn't want to be that kid, you know?" He bit his lip. "I was trying to get to the wall, but it kept getting worse, and eventually I just couldn't get myself back up." He swallowed. "I was underwater for so long that it started hurt, and -" 

Otto fell silent, remembering the sharp line of pain that formed between his lungs. His chest burned fiercely as it begged for air. He'd never wanted anything so badly in his life as he did in that pool, just wanting -  _needing -_  air. 

"You know how you hear about when people are drowning, they kind of instinctively breathe in or whatever? I did that, so of course that made things ten times worse, because not only could I not breathe, but I had water in my lungs.”

“Otto…”

“And I was literally starting to like, lose my vision. Everything was going gray, and I was dizzy, and everything hurt. But then somebody grabbed me and pulled me up…” He shook his head, remembering the sweet, sweet taste of that first breath. His lungs had expanded impossibly far, and he couldn't help but gasp at the taste of the air he so desperately needed. All the pain immediately ceased. His arms shook, and his chest trembled, but the pain was gone. Still, Otto's voice wobbled as he recalled why he was telling the story. “It was Michael. That pulled me out.” 

The room was completely silent.

“He sat with me after, too. On the edge of the pool. He didn’t say anything, and I was like, freaking out and trying not to cry,” he reported, an embarrassed half-smile slipping onto his face. “He found my towel and brought it to me and didn’t tease me or anything. And he was…” He trailed off, his heart aching. 

“We’d been friends in elementary school, but we just kept getting more and more different as we got older, so we stopped hanging out, but he - he didn’t even hesitate to step in. He saw me underwater and he realized something was wrong, and I don’t know what would have happened if he hadn’t done something. I couldn’t have done anything to help myself. Nothing like that had ever happened to me. And it’s never happened since.” Otto swallowed. “I was so embarrassed. I never told anybody; not even Awsten knows. I knew he would blame himself, so.” 

The events of the morning hit him all at once, and he scrunched his body up, bursting into tears. “And now he’s dead! Why would he do that?”

His parents, who had been remarkably still through Otto’s story, suddenly both had hands on him, holding him as he cried. 

“He was my friend,” he sobbed. “Not for a while, but he was. He used to be. H-how did this happen? Why would he bring a gun to school?” 

“I don’t know,” Mom responded. Otto could hear tears in her voice, too.

“He was nice. He was _nice._ Or I thought he was." Otto swiped angrily at his tears. "I just don't get it. I don't get it. Why didn’t we know? I sat in class with him _every day_ last year. How did none of us know?!” 

“That's not on you,” Dad assured. 

“He could have killed everyone, which is scary enough, but he really almost killed Awsten,” Otto realized, crying harder. “He almost killed Awsten. He almost killed Awsten.” 

“Awsten is alive. You’re alive. It’s okay.”

"You don't understand," Otto repeated urgently. " _He almost killed Awsten_ , and then I..." He stopped, not even wanting to entertain the thought of having to face the world without his best friend. He couldn’t bear to finish that sentence. 

He also knew that Awsten could probably hear him, but Otto was too upset to try to stop. He needed this. He'd been in a lockdown, texting his parents that he loved them so much and that he had always looked up to them, was always happy to see them, and that he hoped that he could see them again. And he'd been granted that mercy, but the happiness had quickly turned to terror again as he realized that Awsten was missing and had possibly been shot. Alex had relayed the information about the coffee tray and Awsten's absence with bloodshot eyes, and Otto wound up breaking through the police tape to run to his blood-soaked best friend who'd just witnessed a violent suicide. Awsten's teeth had been chattering even though it was seventy-two degrees. After that, Otto had waited for _hours_ in a hard, plastic chair in a chilly police station only to go home feeling more confused and shut out than ever. 

And Michael was dead. Awsten was traumatized, and Otto was terrified, and Michael was dead. And no one knew why.

Otto turned over, finding comfort in the safety of his father’s strong arms. Dad kissed his head as Mom rubbed his back. He didn’t know how long he sobbed before sleep finally found him. 


	6. Four Out of Five

**Emergency Faculty Meeting  
March 6, 11:52 AM**

“Look at this,” John murmured solemnly, sliding the newspaper across the table.

“I don’t want to see it. I can’t read it again. I can’t even think about it again.”

“Geoff, just look. You really need to see this.”

Geoff sighed, dragging the paper toward himself. He looked down, and there, splashed across on the front page, taking up nearly all of the space above the fold, was a black and white picture of Geoff… and Awsten.

_English teacher Geoff Wigington comforts a student after the early morning shooting at Lakeview High School,_ the caption read.

Geoff brushed a hand over his mouth as he somberly took in the photograph. It must have been snapped mere seconds after Awsten had sprinted through the courtyard to get to him. Awsten looked so small, pressed into Geoff’s chest with his whole face buried in Geoff’s button-down. To an outsider, the image would look just like any other picture taken in the wake of a tragedy, but for Geoff, seeing the snapshot made his stomach twist. He knew the details of it: the way Awsten’s front was covered in blood, the quiet panic attack that made Awsten tremble, the way Awsten’s hands dug into Geoff’s back over and over as if he could somehow force himself closer…

Geoff anxiously hoped, for the millionth time, that Awsten was alright. His mind drifted to the faces of all the students in his class right after the gunshot rang out. More than twenty-four hours had passed, and he hadn’t been able to get those frightened expressions out of his head. Seeing Maddie upset had been one thing, but watching Cassadee cry had been another. And he would never in a million years forget trying to coax Alex out of the building and past the spilled coffee on the ground.

When Geoff finally looked up at John, who was sipping quietly at his tea, he had tears in his eyes. 

John must have noticed them, because he inquired, “How are you holding up?” 

Geoff laughed emptily and shoved the paper back at his friend. “I… I'm not sure. How are you?”

“I didn’t get any sleep,” John admitted. “Not a single minute.” 

Geoff nodded. “I only managed two hours.”

"Well, there's a rumor going around that the school will be closed til Monday, so we'll have time to rest." Geoff was quiet, so John continued,  “How was the, um. You never texted me back. How was the police station?”

“I sat with Awsten when he gave his testimony.” 

John’s eyebrows shot up. “No shit.” 

“He told the officers he wouldn’t give it without me - or at least that's what I was told,” Geoff sighed. “Otto’s father was there with us, too. And Awsten didn’t shed a single tear; he just told the story as though-”

“Alright, may I have your attention, everyone?” came a voice.

Geoff glanced over at the headmaster, who had stepped up to the front of the oversized room.

“I know we’re a little early, but everyone’s here, so I’m going to go ahead and get started so we can all get out of here earlier. I’d like to begin with a moment of silence for Michael Howard.” Someone snorted, and the woman’s eyes snapped up. “Regardless of what happened yesterday, he is no longer with us. I understand that this meeting will be difficult, but if you are going to be disrespectful, I ask that you leave.”

No one budged.

Geoff understood the controversy behind the gesture, but secretly, he was glad that Michael’s death was being acknowledged. That had been just as hard for him to try to wrap his head around as the events leading up to it. 

Geoff bowed his head and took the time to push away the image of the gloomy, silent boy that sat in his class every day and instead remember how brightly Michael smiled one of the few times Geoff noticed him laughing. 

It felt wrong, remembering him happy, but it also felt wrong not to. 

Geoff’s blue eyes filled with tears again. What the hell had gone wrong that led to this? Geoff should have noticed that something was off. He saw the kid every day, for god's sake. He should have stopped this. He should have been paying more attention. 

He sent a silent prayer to… well, he wasn’t sure he believed in God, especially not now, so he directed it to the universe. Whatever forces were out there would hear him. If anything was listening, at least.

“Thank you all for coming today. I know that yesterday was a terrible day, not just for the students, but for the entire community and for all of us as well. I also wanted to thank you for what a superb job you all did handling the students during the lockdown. It went much more smoothly than I would have anticipated.” 

It went much more smoothly than Geoff would have anticipated, too. There had been no time to panic, so each of Geoff's emotions had been shoved into a box and completely closed. Some instinct that had been locked inside of him took over, and his only focus was keeping those kids out of harm’s way. 

For the rest of the meeting, Geoff paid as much attention as he could. The tiredness coupled with how upset he was feeling was a bad combination, though. He wanted to go home and see his cat, not sit here and listen to the police chief speak about gun violence or hear about the school’s policy on giving interviews. His ears only perked up when Annie Harrison started listing the resources that would be available to the school community. Lakeview High would reportedly have more counselors on staff for a few days, and there would be workshops for the teachers on coping with the loss of students and learning how to recognize warning signs of anxiety and depression in teenagers. Geoff made mental notes of those dates and times.

Finally, the rumor about Monday was confirmed, and the meeting drew to a close. Geoff barely said goodbye to John before he disappeared out the door, headed for the parking lot. He didn’t touch the radio, just as he hadn’t that morning or at all the day before. He usually kept music on as background noise nearly everywhere he went, but for the past 27 hours, he hadn’t felt like listening to music at all. 

He wasn’t even halfway through the trip when he lost his composure, but he didn’t stop driving. He just wanted to get home. 

 

* * *

 

** Petekey Memorial Hospital  
March 6, 1:01 PM **

“Hi,” the man said.

Awsten glanced up at him and then back down.

“You must be Awsten. My name’s Rian.” He took a seat next to Awsten and Mrs. Wood in the waiting room. “Could I borrow you for a few minutes?”

Awsten, who had his arms crossed tightly over his chest, didn't move. 

Rian wasn’t put off. “Yeah, I thought you might say that. Here’s the thing, though - we don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to talk about.”

Awsten glanced at him again, not believing him.

Rian held his hands up. “I promise. If you wanna just tell me about your hair and don’t want to say anything else, you don’t have to. We can just talk about your hair. Which is very cool, by the way. I like it.”

Awsten stayed still.

“Go on, sweetie,” Mrs. Wood encouraged softly. 

“Hey, not to sound creepy, but I’ve got candy back there,” Rian admitted. “And honestly, I’m just gonna keep saying things to try to get you back to my office anyway, so if you wanna make this easier for both of us, you’re welcome to come on back. Do you like Pokémon?”

Awsten shook his head.

There was more quiet, and Rian pulled out his phone. A few texts chimed, and then he asked, “Awsten, how do you feel about dogs?” 

Awsten tried not to react, but he couldn’t help the way his eyes brightened. He hadn’t seen a dog in so long…

“There’s a therapy dog here today, and Grace said she’d be happy to bring him by for you to see.” Awsten got right to his feet, and Rian laughed happily. “Alright, cool, cool. I’ll tell her to bring him over.”

Awsten followed Rian a short ways down a hall to a half-lit room. Awsten walked in and turned in a slow circle; it was a big space, but it still felt cozy somehow. There were white Christmas lights lining the walls, rich, colorful tapestries decorating the ceiling, and vanilla candles on the side table. Most interestingly, Rian had covered his desk and bookshelves with all sorts of little trinkets. Harry Potter, Disney, Pokémon like he’d mentioned, and some that Awsten didn’t recognize. 

“Have a seat wherever you like,” Rian told him. “Grace will be here in a few minutes, so we can chat until then.” 

Awsten pressed himself back into the far corner of the couch and grabbed a pillow to hold in his lap. 

“Awsten did you sleep last night?” Rian asked curiously. “You look pretty tired.”

Awsten shrugged.

“Alright. Um, do you wanna tell me a little about yourself?”

Awsten just looked at him.

“I can go first if you want,” Rian offered.

Awsten nodded. 

“Well, my name is Rian. I just moved to Houston last year; I’m formerly from Baltimore. I like music and going to the beach.” He smiled encouragingly. “Your turn.”

Awsten cleared his throat, but his voice still came out sounding wispy. “I’m Awsten. I always lived here. And I like… dogs.” 

Rian smiled. “Me, too. Do you have one?”

Awsten shook his head. 

“You wanna see a picture of mine?”

Awsten nodded. 

Rian pulled his phone back out, swiped his finger across the screen a few times, and then passed it to Awsten so he could see the little French bulldog. 

“What’s its name?” Awsten asked. 

“Cuppy.” 

“Cuppy?” Awsten echoed.

Rian shrugged one shoulder. “I didn’t pick it. Um, what else should I know about you?”

“Nothing,” he replied as he handed the phone back.

“Well, what would your best friend say about you?”

“That I talk too much.”  
  
Rian laughed. “Yeah?”

“And that I’m weird.”

“Everybody’s weird.” 

“Maybe.” 

“So what kind of weird are you?” Rian inquired. “Are you really-good-at-video-games weird? Or reading-books-all-the-time weird? What kind of weird?”

“I go to the lake a lot,” Awsten murmured, not directly answering Rian's question. “You know the lake in the middle of town?” 

“Yeah, I know of it. I’ve never been there, though.”

Awsten smiled before he could stop himself. “Yeah. That’s my favorite thing about it. Nobody ever goes.”

“Is that your hangout spot?”

Awsten nodded. “I go there all the time. Just by myself.”

“That’s really cool,” Rian decided. “I like that.” 

“Me, too.” 

“Anything else you wanna tell me?” 

Awsten shrugged. 

“Okay. Then let me ask you this. Can you list five people for me that love you?” 

Awsten quirked an eyebrow.

“I know it sounds strange,” Rian admitted, “but just humor me. Five people that root for you, that love you like crazy.” 

“Otto,” Awsten answered immediately. 

“Okay,” Rian said, jotting Otto’s name down. “Tell me a little about Otto.” 

“He’s my best friend. We grew up together, and we’ve always been in the same grade at the same school… I’m living with him right now, actually. His parents got a foster license so they could take care of me a couple years ago. That way I wouldn’t have to get placed with strangers. Um, you can put them on the list, too.” 

“Otto and Otto’s parents,” Rian murmured as he wrote. “Was that Otto’s mom that brought you here?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright. That’s great, Awsten, you’re doing great. That’s three already. Can you give me two more?” 

Awsten thought for a moment. “My English teacher,” he remembered. 

“Okay,” Rian nodded, writing again. “What’s his name?”

“We just call him Mr. W.”

“Cool. Why does he make the list?”

“He’s, um. He’s just really been there, I guess. I had a bad couple weeks, and I yelled at him, but he didn’t get mad. Well - he did get a little mad. But he didn’t hate me or decide I’m a bad person like everybody else does. I told him I was sorry later and he accepted my apology. Nothing changed between us.”

Rian nodded as he made a short note. “He sounds like a good person,” he observed.

“He is.”

“Do you trust him?” Rian asked carefully.

“Yeah,” Awsten answered right away, nodding fervently. “Yeah. I don’t trust, like, anybody at school other than Otto, but I trust him.” 

“Why?” 

Awsten’s stomach twisted as he remembered the terrified look on Mr. W’s face in the courtyard and the way Mr. W had practically melted in relief the second he spotted Awsten. He swallowed thickly. “Cause he cares. About me.” 

“Tell me more about that.” 

Quietly, Awsten explained, “Um, I was crying in his classroom a couple weeks ago, cause - well, you can’t see the bruise anymore, but my dad gave me a black eye.” He smiled tightly. “And I didn’t want to talk about it, but I was still pretty upset about it, I guess, cause I was crying. I couldn’t help it. It was really early, way before school, so it was just me and him. And he asked me what had happened, but I didn’t want to tell him, but he didn’t try to make me talk about it. He went and got the book we were reading for class and just started reading to me. For like, almost an hour. After, he had to report what had happened, you know? Since I got hurt. But I wasn’t mad, and he actually came to the police station with me to make sure I was okay. He read to me for a long time there, too. And he came to the police station with me yesterday, too. We didn’t have time for him to get a book before we left, though.” 

Awsten silently kicked himself for bringing up the shooting, but luckily, Rian didn’t seem interested in that yet. 

“And what about your fifth person?” 

Before Awsten could answer, there was a curt knock at the door. “Special deliiiiveryyyy!” a girl sang. 

“Is that the dog?” Awsten asked Rian hopefully. 

“That’s definitely Grace,” Rian smiled as he set his notepad down, “and she’s the one with the dog.” He got up and crossed the room to open the door. 

Standing in the hall was a pink-haired girl with a nose ring who was accompanied by a curly, tan, short-haired poodle. The dog had its tongue lolling out, which made it look like he was smiling. Awsten liked it instantly. 

“Hi!” the girl chirped. 

“Hey,” Rian greeted, “come on in.” Grace and the dog entered the room, and Rian closed the door behind them. He leaned down, scratched behind the dog’s ears, and cooed, “I was hoping I’d get to see you today.” 

The girl - _Grace_ \- laughed. “You and everybody else in the whole hospital! Godfrey’s our little celebrity.” She turned to Awsten. “You’re not supposed to tell me your name,” she informed him, “but I’m Grace, and this is my buddy Godfrey.” She led the dog over to where Awsten was sitting. “You can pet him if you want.” 

Awsten reached out to stroke the top of Godfrey’s head, and before he fully realized what he was doing, he was kneeling on the carpet so he could reach the dog better. “He has a name tag,” Awsten observed softy.

“Yep! If you flip it over, he has an ID photo, too,” Grace laughed. She let go of the leash as she took a spot on the other end of the couch, and Rian settled back into his chair. They started chatting, not actively excluding Awsten but also letting him be so he could enjoy his time with the dog. 

“Your hair feels like a carpet,” Awsten murmured to the dog, softly enough to be sure that the other two people wouldn’t hear him. “You’re a big rug with big ears. I like you.”

A door banged shut in the hallway, and Awsten’s world seemed to tip sideways. One moment, he was fine, focused entirely on the dog, and the next, he was being bombarded with a hundred different memories of Michael, bleeding, oozing, his jaw hanging loose. Awsten’s hand trembled hard, and he took a hold of Godfrey’s side, sure to be gentle. 

Before Awsten could stop the thoughts, his breathing quickened, and he started to get the sense that the walls were closing in. His fingers tightened slightly on the dog’s hair. He hoped that he wasn’t making any noise; the rushing blood in his ears was too loud for him to tell. 

The dog, sensing that something was going on, stepped forward into Awsten’s space. Awsten’s arms automatically rose to wrap around his neck, and he nuzzled his face into the dog as well. The room fell quiet, and Awsten squeezed his eyes shut hard to keep from crying. He didn’t know where the sudden flood of memories had come from - just that it was there, and that it was overwhelming. He couldn’t stop seeing all that fucking blood in the grass…

“You alright?” Rian checked.

Awsten nodded into the curly fur. 

The dog stood still, waiting patiently for Awsten’s heart stop pounding so wildly. As he waited, he turned his head slightly to lick at Awsten’s ear, almost as if to reassure him. 

“Godfrey,” Grace chastised softly. 

The room stayed quiet for another minute while Awsten regained control of his breathing. Once he felt okay again, he sat up slightly.

“You okay, babe?” Grace asked, her concern clear in her voice.

Awsten nodded, and Godfrey settled his top half into Awsten’s lap. Awsten smiled tiredly in spite of himself and gave the animal some gentle scratches on the neck. Godfrey lightly wagged his tail.

The air in the room seemed to relax, and after several seconds, Rian and Grace began their conversation again. 

Awsten was just starting to feel like himself again when Grace glanced at her watch. “I’ve only got two more minutes til I have to leave, okay?” 

Awsten nodded. He spent the rest of the time in silence, petting the dog and wishing that he didn’t have to go. But eventually the time came, and Awsten kissed his head and murmured a quiet goodbye. Godfrey just wagged at Awsten and followed Grace out the door. 

“They’re the best, huh?” Rian asked as he shut the door behind them. 

“Uh-huh,” Awsten replied as he climbed back up onto the couch and smushed the pillow into his chest. 

“If you decide to come back, I can see if she can bring him again. They come most days.” 

“That’s her job? She gets to bring a dog to see people?”

“Well, I don’t think they pay her,” Rian thought aloud, his eyebrows knitting together as he tried to remember. “I’m pretty sure she’s just a volunteer.” 

“Wow.” 

Rian nodded. “Yeah. And Godfrey is her dog, actually. But yeah, Grace has a really interesting story. If you ask her about how she got started doing the whole therapy animal thing, she’ll probably tell you. She’s the opposite of shy.” Rian settled back into his chair and picked his notebook back up. “Now… where were we?”

“I don’t have a fifth person,” Awsten blurted. 

Rian looked up at him.

“I was thinking about it a little while Godfrey was here, and I just have four.” He looked down, disappointed in himself. He hoped Rian wouldn’t be disappointed in him, too. “I’m sorry.” 

“No, it’s okay, Awsten,” Rian assured. “Five is just the number we aim for. Four is still really good. Some people don’t even have _one_.” At the sad look on Awsten’s face, Rian gave him a small smile. “Everybody has a different starting point.” 

Awsten thought bleakly about his own starting point. He may have had four people on his list, but he’d had a pretty rough couple weeks. Though he supposed a lot of people had it worse.

“If it’s okay,” Rian began, “I wanted to ask you about what just happened a minute ago. Has that happened before?”

“What?”

“Your anxiety attack. Has that happened before?”

Awsten blinked. “I didn’t have an anxiety attack.” 

Rian used his pen to motion to the carpet. “I saw you,” he said softly.

“No, that wasn’t a…” Anxiety attacks - were they the same as panic attacks? - were unmistakable, right? Hyperventilating and crying and all that? 

“Did the door scare you?” 

Slowly, Awsten nodded. 

“What was going on in your mind after you heard the noise?” 

Awsten gulped. “I… I saw what happened yesterday,” he whispered. 

“And what happened yesterday? You can say as much or as little as you want.” 

Before he spoke, Awsten took a moment to figure out how to define what he'd witnessed. “Michael brought a gun to school. He shot himself.”

“I’m so sorry,” Rian murmured.

He knew already - of course he knew already. Otto's parents had to have told him before they agreed to bring Awsten to see him. But his tone was so sincere that Awsten thought for a second that he’d caught the therapist off guard.

“There’s something I… want to talk about,” Awsten admitted. “Everyone keeps making me stop every time I bring it up, but it’s really, really fucking with me.”

“This is a safe place. You can talk about anything in here." At Awsten's skeptical expression, he assured, " _Anything._ " 

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive.” 

“Okay. Then I… I want to talk about what he looked like after he fired the gun.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (the conversation [as we see it] stops there. don't worry about this coming back in the next chapter.)


	7. Whatever You Need

**Otto's House**  
**March 9, 7:02 PM**

“Hey, Awsten. I’m so sorry I couldn’t fit you in today.”

“That’s okay.” Awsten hadn’t needed the session anyway; Otto’s parents had realized that morning that it might be good for Awsten to have someone walk him through returning to school, but Rian’s weekends were apparently always booked wall-to-wall, and today was no exception.

“How are you feeling?”

“Okay,” he replied emptily.

“Yeah?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Good, good. I’m glad to hear that. Um, listen, I wanted to check in cause I was wondering how you felt about going back to school tomorrow. If you’re not comfortable, I’d be happy to write you a note so you can wait until you're ready.”

“Oh, no, that’s okay,” Awsten repeated softly, fighting a yawn. “Thanks, though.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. I’m getting kinda bored.”

Awsten could hear the smile in Rian’s voice as he replied, “Alright. Is there anything about it you’re looking forward to?”

“Seeing my friend Alex. And going to my English class.”

“Oh yeah, with Mr. W, right?”

“Yep.”

“Good, Awsten, that’s great. I’m sure they’ll be glad to see you, too. Um, did Otto’s mom give you my number?”

“It’s on the fridge,” Awsten nodded. He glanced over to the business card clipped to the refrigerator beside his A paper for Mr. W and Otto’s latest A history test.

“Okay. Anything happens tomorrow, you just text me. Doesn’t have to be a big thing, even. If you get anxious or upset or you just want to talk, you let me know, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Awsten echoed, pulling his eyes away from the schoolwork.

“Alright, then. Anything else?”

“Nope.”

“Okay then. I’ll see you soon. Hang in there, alright?”

“Okay.”

“Bye, Awsten. Good luck.”

“Thanks. Bye.”

Awsten passed Otto’s mom’s cell phone back to her and dropped his chin into his hand. She ran a hand over his hair, something that, over the past few days, Awsten had stopped trying to ignore and instead let himself lean into.

“That was short,” she observed.

Awsten nodded and folded his arms on the counter. He used them as a pillow when she stopped touching his head.

“You sure you want to go back, baby? You don’t have to if you’re not ready.”

“I’m sure,” he replied, the words muffled in his oversized sweater. He stayed there until dinner was ready, which was when he slowly climbed down from the stool and got some glasses from the cabinet even though he hadn’t been asked. He set them on the table, still empty, and then sat down in his chair.

Otto and his dad came in from working outside, Otto trailing behind his father, and before Otto was even halfway through the room to the sink, Awsten had reached out and grabbed his sleeve. Awsten didn’t have any words, but he knew that Otto would be able to read the apology in his eyes.

Otto looked expressionlessly from Awsten’s hand to his face. “What?” he asked blankly.

Maybe not.

Awsten dropped Otto’s sleeve and retreated to the table.

Dinner was quiet, and Awsten, who had been surviving on little bursts of two and three hours of sleep here and there, was practically nodding off by the time it was done. Otto stayed to help with the dishes, but at Otto’s parents’ encouragement, Awsten went up to the boys’ shared room to rest.

As Awsten was heading down the hall a few moments later, a pillow tucked under one arm and a blanket draped over the other, Otto came up the stairs.

“What are you doing?” Otto asked quizzically.

Awsten stopped walking and turned toward him. “I… I was going to the guest room.”

Otto shook his head. “Don’t.”

The pair stood still in the hall for several seconds, just staring at each other. Finally, Awsten couldn’t take it anymore, and he looked down at his bare feet. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Otto asked evenly.

Awsten shrugged, a bit of shame seeping into his chest. “Cutting you off.” He glanced up, and Otto was looking upset and biting his lip.

“Come on,” Otto muttered. “Let’s talk.”

Awsten followed Otto into their bedroom, and Otto closed the door behind them. He sat down at the foot of Awsten’s bed, and Awsten took a seat beside him, dropping the blanket on the carpet but letting the pillow rest across his lap. He fiddled with the pillowcase as he spoke. “Nobody wants me to talk to you.”

“Yeah, but what about what  _I_ want?” Otto responded immediately. “Did you ever think about that?”

Awsten let out a quiet breath. “I mean, yeah. Kinda.”

“Kinda? What did you think I’d want?”

Awsten shrugged.

“Well, what do  _you_ want?”

Awsten shrugged again.

Otto dragged his fingers down his face. “Awsten. Look, I may not have been with you when it happened, but I’ve been there every minute before and every minute after, our whole lives. Is that true?”

“Y… yes,” Awsten whispered, even more ashamed.

“So why would now be any different?”

“This is… bigger.”

“I don’t care.”

Awsten looked down. “I do.”

Otto was stunned. He opened and closed his mouth a few times. “What did they say to you?” he finally demanded. “My parents, the doctors, the police - what did they say to you? Did they make you sign something?”

“No. They didn’t say anything. I just - you don’t know what I saw, okay? You don’t know what-”

“Because you won’t fucking tell me!” Otto cried. He got to his feet and stalked several feet away, stopping with his arms crossed and his back to Awsten. “No one’s telling me fucking  _anything._ Mom and Dad won’t let me watch TV, so all I know is what I’m getting from my phone, but even the internet’s keeping quiet, Awsten. No one’s said a word about you. All they say is that Michael is dead because he killed himself, but they don’t even say his name, and I don’t know how to help you when I don’t know what happened. But it doesn’t matter, apparently, because we got out of the car on Wednesday, and you wouldn’t even look at me. You haven't looked at me since. Not really.”

Silently, Awsten stood and took a few steps toward where Otto was.

“Mom said you’d come around, but it’s been  _four days_ , Awsten,” Otto added, his frustration palpable. “You won’t talk to me, you avoid me… you spend more time with my parents than you do with me, and we sleep in the same room. Or at least, _I_  sleep. I hear you wake up all…” Otto waved his arm at the window, at a loss for the word he was searching for. "It’s not a secret, even if you’ve gotten good at getting it under control. You can’t keep going like this, and neither can I. So if you don't want to be friends anymore, then fine, let’s just go ahead and say we're n-”

Cautiously, Awsten wrapped one arm around Otto’s stomach and the other over his chest.

As if all the fight had suddenly left Otto, he deflated and fell silent. Awsten let his chin rest on Otto’s shoulder as Otto took a few slow breaths in and out.

With no warning, Otto whipped around in Awsten’s grasp and threw his arms around Awsten’s neck. Awsten held him tightly.

“Stop shutting me out,” Otto commanded.

“Okay,” Awsten whispered back.

Otto sighed, letting his body press into Awsten’s. “I know you think you’re alone in this, and I know I wasn’t there for the worst part, but I was scared, too.” He shut his eyes. “I was scared, too.”

Awsten didn’t know what to say. He’d been so wrapped up in himself that he’d barely thought about what Otto had gone through - that morning or in the days after. “I heard you crying,” he started, but Otto didn’t hear him over his own words.

“We thought you were dead,” he choked out. “Me and Alex and my parents. Mr. W, too, I think. We all thought you were dead. And that fucked me up just as much as being in the lockdown.” Otto pulled back, and, for the first time in years, Awsten was faced with Otto’s watery eyes and the tears streaming down from them. “When Alex was leaving Mr. W’s room, he saw- did you leave and go get coffee that morning?”

Awsten nodded.

“It was on the floor in the hallway when Alex left. The coffee. And a giant spill. That was  _all we knew_. That, and that somebody had probably been shot. And I just thought that maybe somehow your parents had-”

“My parents?” Awsten echoed.

“I thought they came to school to hurt you,” Otto explained sadly, wiping at his cheeks. “And I thought you were dead. For like  _three entire minutes,_ I thought you were dead, Awsten. Do you know what that felt like? Do you-?” Otto cut himself off, bursting into tears all over again and pulling Awsten back to him. “I kinda don’t even care that you’ve been acting like a dick, cause I know you’re fucked up, but I mostly don’t care cause this is a thousand times better than you being dead.”

“My parents?” Awsten repeated, bewildered.

“I didn’t know!” Otto snapped, but he didn’t let go. “I was panicked, okay? Anything could have happened! I just - you’re my brother.” He swallowed and then repeated, “You’re my brother. I couldn’t… I  _can’t_  lose you.”

Awsten squeezed him. “You’re my brother, too.”

Otto nodded.

“And I’m sorry.”

“Good,” Otto said shortly. He pulled back and dragged his sleeve under his eyes. “Cause, honestly? I fucking hate this. This whole not-talking-to-you thing.”

“I hate it too,” Awsten murmured, but he wasn’t sure whether the words were true. He’d only been keeping quiet in an attempt to protect Otto, just like everyone else.

“Can you please tell me what happened?” Otto begged. “Please. I’m going crazy not knowing. I - I won’t tell anyone you told me, I promise. I just need to know the truth. Michael was… he was my friend, you know? It’s fucked up - it’s  _so_ fucked up what he did, especially to you, but he was my friend.”

“I don’t know…”

“Please,” Otto repeated. “School is tomorrow. I don’t want to go back not knowing anything.”

Awsten gave him a long look. He looked tired and pale. He looked… somehow, Otto looked like he’d gotten older over the weekend, but Awsten supposed he probably appeared that way as well. He dropped his shoulders. “Fine,” he sighed.

Otto nodded gratefully. “Okay.”

“Where do you wanna-”

“Where’s the only place we ever tell secrets?” Otto asked softly. He walked to the closet and tossed Awsten a jacket. “Get your shoes. Let’s go.”

 

* * *

 

** Room 121  
March 10, 8:00 AM **

“Good morning,” Geoff murmured from the front of the room.

Six wide-eyed teenagers stared back at him.

“We’re going to do things a little differently today. Some of you emailed asking about homework, but there wasn’t any, so don’t worry about that. I'm very sorry that I was unable to respond to you.” He swallowed. “Miss Harrison is here,” Geoff noted, glancing over to where the counselor was seated, “and what we’ll do today is just open the floor, and you will be able to speak. Or not speak. Whichever is correct for you. But we thought this might be of some help since all of us experienced this together.”

“Where’s Awsten?” Alex interrupted.

Geoff gave him a sad smile. “I don’t know.”

Alex nodded, but he still looked anxious.

Geoff had, of course, wanted all of his students to make it to class on Monday, but he wasn’t expecting Awsten to be there. Hoping, maybe. But not expecting.

It was strange, though, having it suddenly be notable that Awsten wasn’t on time. He was the most chronically late student that Geoff had encountered in his three years of teaching, and quite honestly, Geoff hadn’t taken much note of him at the beginning of the year. He’d heard about Awsten Knight and the way he seemed to spend every day after school in detention. Geoff had begun to wonder whether it was intentional, especially with the way that Awsten so obviously wanted Geoff to write him up. It seemed that every week, Awsten had conceived a new strategy to use in an attempt to land himself in hot water. But later it all made sense.

“You can talk about anything,” Annie offered, ending the awkward pause. “And if you want to speak with me privately, we can do that later as well.”

“But you don’t have to share if you don’t want to,” Geoff assured. “That’s fine, too. Just whatever you need, yes?”

Taylor hesitantly raised her hand. “I have something,” she murmured.

“Yes, Taylor, go ahead,” Geoff nodded, afraid of what she might say but also relieved that one of the kids had wanted to say anything at all. He had been fairly sure they’d all be sitting in silence for the entire class period. Though he figured if that happened, he would just read to them. That had proved immeasurably comforting to Awsten; it would probably be the same for some of the others, as well.

“I wanted to say thank you,” she said softly. “I know I was really scared, but you weren’t. You were really brave. And you said you were going to keep us safe, and I’ve been thinking about that all weekend.” She swallowed. “I know that when crazy stuff is happening, people say a lot of things. They say whatever they think will make things better. But. I believed you.” Her volume dropped. “I still believe you.”

The other kids nodded in agreement.

Geoff’s eyes filled with tears, but he didn’t turn away. He read online over the weekend that it was good for kids to see that adults had emotions, too, so he just wiped at his eyes and nodded. “I meant it,” he replied softly.

“Can I hug you?” Taylor asked, and Geoff let out a little laugh.

“Of course.”

She got up from her desk and straightened her sundress as she crossed the room to put her arms around him. “Thanks, Mr. W,” she whispered.

He hugged her tightly for a moment and then let go. “You are more than welcome.”

She returned to her seat, and Alex raised his hand.

“Alex.”

“I just can’t believe he did it,” Alex mumbled. He looked first at Geoff and then at Annie, and finally, he cast his gaze down to his hands, which he folded on his desk. “I want to ask him what he was going to do, like, if he was gonna come in here and hurt us.”

Geoff had been wondering the same thing.

“And if he was, why? And if he wasn’t… what was his plan? And - and how did I sit in here all year with him and not know - about  _any_  of this?”

“It’s not your fault,” Annie said firmly. “Any of you.”

“But we spent all this time with him,” Maddie countered softly.

Heartbrokenly, Chloe added, “I never talked to him. I never tried to be nice to him or even, like, told him my name. I should have.”

Geoff felt like his heart was cleaving in two. He was glad Annie was in the room to help him walk his students through this, because had he been required to open his mouth, he was completely sure that he would have lost it. He took slow, deep breaths through his nose and focused on the fact that no one else had been hurt. Emotionally, yes. But not physically. Michael could have done a  _lot_ of damage. There could have been a lot more parents without kids this morning.

Ten more minutes of Annie insisting that the class wasn’t responsible for what happened passed before the students all seemed done talking and silence fell. 

“Well,” Geoff began tentatively, “if you would like to focus on something else now, I’d be happy to read to you.”

“Yes, please.”

“I know that the novel is a bit sad-”

“It helps,” Cassadee interrupted. As soon as the words left her mouth, she blushed bright red. “Um, I may have. Read the whole thing last week. After it happened. And it… helped.”

Geoff gave her a small smile. “I’m glad to hear that.” Cassadee hadn't spoken at all during the discussion, and neither had Zack, but it was reassuring for Geoff to hear that Cassadee had found some peace on her own.

She nodded and sank a little in her seat.

Geoff opened the book, and Annie said to him, “Just call if you guys need me, yeah?”

He nodded. “Thank you.”

 

_Eddie saw nothing of his final moment on earth, nothing of the pier or the crowd or the shattered fiberglass cart._

_In the stories about life after death, the soul often floats above the good-bye moment, hovering over police cars at highway accidents, or clinging like a spider to hospital-room ceilings. These are people who receive a second chance, who somehow, for some reason, resume their place in the world._

_Eddie, it appeared, was not getting a second chance._

_WHERE . . . ? Where . . . ? Where . . . ?_

_The sky was a misty pumpkin shade, then a deep turquoise, then a bright lime. Eddie was floating, and his arms were still extended._

_Where . . . ?_

_The tower cart was falling. He remembered that. The little girl—Amy? Annie?—she was crying. He remembered that. He remembered lunging. He remembered hitting the platform. He felt her two small hands in his._

_Then what?_

_Did I save her?_

_Eddie could only picture it at a distance, as if it happened years ago. Stranger still, he could not feel any emotions that went with it. He could only feel calm, like a child in the cradle of its mother's arms._

_Where . . . ?_

_The sky around him changed again, to grapefruit yellow, then a forest green, then a pink that Eddie momentarily associated with, of all things, cotton candy._

_Did I save her?_

_Did she live?_

_Where . . ._

_. . . is my worry?_

_Where is my pain?_

_That was what was missing. Every hurt he'd ever suffered, every ache he'd ever endured—it was all as gone as an expired breath. He could not feel agony. He could not feel sadness. His consciousness felt smoky, wisplike, incapable of anything but calm. Below him now, the colors changed again. Something was swirling. Water. An ocean. He was floating over a vast yellow sea. Now it turned melon. Now it was sapphire. Now he began to drop, hurtling toward the surface. It was faster than anything he'd ever imagined, yet there wasn't as much as a breeze on his face, and he felt no fear. He saw the sands of a golden shore._

_Then he was under water._

_Then everything was silent._

_Where is my worry?_

_Where is my pain?_

 

* * *

 

** Teacher’s Lounge  
March 10, 9:02 AM **

Annie came flying into the room, startling both Geoff and John, who were seated in their usual chairs at the wooden table but not speaking. It seemed first period had been difficult for both of them.

“I need your help,” Annie said urgently.

“What’s wrong?” John asked.

“Awsten Knight is missing again. Otto Wood brought him to school, and I confirmed with Otto’s parents that he should be here. Mr. Wood saw them get in the car together this morning. And he said that Awsten talked with a therapist last night and told him that he wanted to come back today.”

“How can we help?” Geoff asked.

“I need you two to split up. Go check the bathrooms, the stairwells, anywhere you can think of that he might be.”

Truth be told, she was so frantic that Geoff was seriously worried. “Is there anything we should know?”

“Like what?”

“Like... well, Alex Gaskarth mentioned to me once that he was concerned that Awsten might have been thinking about hurting himself. Do you think-”

“I don’t know,” Annie replied, shaking her head, “but let’s go now. Let’s go now.”

Geoff left his still-steaming coffee on the table and headed straight out of the room. He caught Alex, who was leaving the bathroom and was presumably on the way to his statistics class.

“Did Miss Harrison tell you?” Alex asked, his voice strained.

“Tell me what?”

“That Awsten’s not here even though Otto brought him to school.”

Just then, the bathroom door swung open again, and Otto stopped short in the doorway.

“We’ll find him,” Geoff said with what he hoped was a comforting smile, looking from Otto to Alex and back to Otto.

“You’re not gonna look in the right place,” Otto whispered. He was so quiet that Geoff almost didn't hear him.

Geoff took a few steps toward him. “Where should we look?”

“There’s only one place he goes.”

Geoff furrowed his brow.

“I can’t leave campus, cause my parents will freak, but I’m honestly about to. He's not texting me back, and I… I don’t want anything to happen to him.”

“Where should we look?” Geoff repeated.

Otto swallowed. He and Alex traded a glance, and then Alex supplied, “The lake.”

 

* * *

 

**Miss Harrison's Office  
March 10, 9:13 AM**

“Geoff, you can’t leave campus because of Awsten again,” Annie protested. “This would be the  _third time_ , and Otto’s parents already confirmed that they checked the lake and that Awsten wasn’t there.”

“Yes, but that was ten minutes ago,” Geoff pointed out, drumming his fingers against his thigh as he tried to keep his tone in check. “Go look and see if Otto’s car is in the parking lot. I’d bet you money it is, which would put Awsten on foot, and it takes-”

“Geoff,” John began, but Geoff cut him off with a glare.

Annie tried, too. “The police have been called-”

“Do I need to remind you that one of my students just committed suicide?” Geoff snapped.

He was met with shocked stares and a heavy silence.

“Now, maybe I’m overreacting, and maybe this is nothing, and maybe Awsten fell asleep in the library or went for a walk. I don’t know. But I will not take any chances. I will not. I will not lose another one of my kids. You can fire me if you like, but I’m not losing  _one. more. kid_.”

 

* * *

 

 **The Lake  
** **March 10, 9:24 AM**

Geoff pulled into the grass and shifted his car into park. He flung the door open, jogged up the small hill, and started preparing for whatever he might find.

But there was a sound, and Geoff stopped in his tracks so he could hear it better. It was a small sound, but it was definitely something. He kept moving. Once he reached the crest of the hill, he could see down to the water, where there was a boy seated near the bank with faded purple hair and a thin t-shirt, his shoulders shaking and his face buried in his knees.

Geoff’s shoulders sagged with relief. “Awsten!” he called, and Awsten flinched and turned to look. Geoff quickly made his way toward the boy until he was close enough to sit beside him. He settled next to Awsten in the grass, and his mind flashed back to sitting in the desk beside Awsten’s mere weeks prior, listening to him cry then, too.

It was clear that the student was trying to pull himself together, based on the way he was running the back of his wrist across his cheeks and under his nose.

“Awsten, we’ve been looking everywhere for you,” Geoff told him gently. “We’ve been so worried.”

“I’m sorry,” Awsten murmured, punctuating the thought with a sniff. “I know I was supposed to be at school.”

“What happened?” Geoff asked.

Awsten shook his head.

“I just want to understand.”

Awsten dipped his head down and began to cry again. Geoff hoped his words hadn't upset Awsten further.

“I thought I could do it,” Awsten told Geoff helplessly, fresh tears rolling freely down his cheeks. “I thought I could do it, but we got in the parking lot, and then I got in the hallway, and I was so fucking scared. I was looking at everybody’s hands, cause what if somebody had something, you know? Like Michael. I didn't want to see that again. And they were too loud, it was too loud. Everybody was too loud, and I…” He shook his head. “I was just gonna hide for a little bit, but I didn't know where to go, and just - I couldn’t do it!”

“Alright,” Geoff whispered, sliding forward and wrapping an arm around him. “That's alright. You did your best. And you aren't in any trouble - you know that, don't you?”

Awsten went easily into him, turning his whole body sideways so Geoff could reach more of him to hold. His soft cries turned into big, heaving, hopeless gasps. He sobbed and sobbed and sobbed, and as Geoff listened, he was beginning to get the feeling that Awsten hadn’t done much processing over the break. It was either all hitting him or all coming out now.

Awsten’s shoulders convulsed against Geoff’s chest, but the sounds being ripped from his throat were far worse. Geoff stayed silent, reaching into his own pocket for his cell phone with one hand while he kept a tight grip on Awsten with the other.

_He’s here,_  he texted Annie.

_Safe._

_I’ve got him._

He didn’t wait for a response, just let the phone drop into the grass so he could wrap Awsten up with both arms. He rested his chin on top of Awsten’s head and fought the tears that had formed in his own eyes. His attempt was futile, though. Awsten sounded so awful that Geoff couldn’t bear it.

 

* * *

 

** The Lake  
March 10, 9:35 AM **

Awsten wasn’t sure how long he’d been crying. It felt like hours. It probably  _had_  been hours. The meltdown started around 7:40 AM and hadn’t really stopped. Awsten was dazed and dizzy.

He was vaguely aware that a burst of words had rushed from his mouth when Mr. W asked him about what had happened that morning, but he wasn’t sure exactly what he’d said. It didn’t seem to matter, though, because Mr. W was still holding onto him when the cops showed up.

Awsten was frightened; the last thing he wanted was to go back to the goddamn police station for another hour of endless questioning, especially when this time it would be all his fault. At least before, the incidents had only been  _partially_  his fault. First, he’d pushed things too far at school and gotten hit at home. Then he couldn’t stop Michael from pulling the trigger. But now he’d left school while he was on probation, and that had been completely his choice. Otto’s parents were going to be furious.

Awsten pressed his body deeper into the safety of Mr. W's grasp and his ear closer to the steady drum of Mr. W’s heartbeat. The adults were chattering above him, but Mr. W had made no move to let go. Awsten exhaled lightly and closed his eyes, allowing himself to relax for the first time in days.

“Awsten. Would you like me to?” Mr. W asked, and Awsten dragged his eyelids back up.

“What?” he asked, voice wrecked. He cleared his throat as best he could.

“Would you like me to get some water for you before we go?” Mr. W asked, and from his tone it was clear that this was the second (or perhaps third) time he was asking.

“Go where?”

Mr. W gave Awsten that kind, patient smile that he had grown so used to in class. Awsten hadn’t seen that in a while. “We need to take you to the hospital to see your therapist. Would you like me to stop by my house so you can get a water bottle before we go? It’s a two minute walk. I would come right back.”

“I wanna come,” Awsten blurted. “I don’t…”  _want you to leave._

“Is that alright?” Mr. W asked, looking up at the police officers, who traded a shrug. Mr. W didn’t seem to want to wait for someone to change their mind, so he stood and helped Awsten to his feet. “Come on. Walking a little bit will probably be good for you.”

For a moment, Awsten felt like a baby deer on his feet. He was shaky, but Mr. W caught his elbow to steady him. At some point while they’d been sitting, Mr. W must have removed his suit jacket, because Awsten suddenly noticed that it was draped around his shoulders. He pushed his arms into the sleeves, which were entirely too long for him.

Mr. W noticed and noted, “I’ll give you a sweatshirt when we get home, alright?”

"Kay."

Awsten was vaguely aware of a cop traipsing across the grass behind them, and he felt angry at the man for invading his sanctuary. As far as Awsten was concerned, the police weren’t welcome there. Mr. W was okay, he supposed, but not these officers. Awsten wanted them to leave.

He and Mr. W walked side by side to the road where the first row of houses were settled behind the lake. They crossed the street.

“Here, come through here,” Mr. W directed, motioning Awsten toward a rock path between two of the oversized homes on the other side. He glanced at Awsten, who looked a little more like himself but had been uncharacteristically silent. “Are you alright?”

Awsten nodded. It was a bit of a lie… but only a bit. He wasn’t okay, but he was doing significantly better than he had been five minutes prior.

The path let out on the next street, and they turned left. Mr. W took a hand out of his pocket to point at the house at the end of the street. “That one is mine,” he said.

If Awsten wasn’t so lost in his haze, his mouth would have dropped open. The house was massive - easily three stories, built of gorgeous, dark wood, and nestled between a plethora of tall, thick, evergreen trees. It looked like somewhere someone rich with would live with their big family.

“Are you married?” Awsten asked before he realized that the words were tumbling out of his mouth.

Mr. W chuckled. “No.”

“Oh.” Awsten hesitated and then asked, “Why not?”

Mr. W shrugged. “I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “I have… never been interested in any of that sort of thing. I was focused on school, and now I’m focused on work, and that’s plenty for me.” He smiled as he remembered something. “I have my cat, though. She’s the only girl I need.”

“A cat?” Awsten softly echoed.

“Yes. Are you allergic?”

Awsten shook his head.

The pair fell silent again for the last few steps up to the big house. The cop stopped at the foot of the driveway, but Awsten accompanied Mr. W up the stone steps to the front door.

“Stay here, please,” Mr. W said as he pushed the door open. “Water and a jacket. Is there anything else you need? Maybe some tissues,” he muttered, glancing over Awsten’s face.

He could still feel the tear tracks on his cheeks, but it hadn’t occurred to him that they would be visible. He shook his head.

“Alright.”

“What’s your cat’s name?” Awsten asked as Mr. W strode toward the kitchen.

“Tuna!” he called over his shoulder.

The corners of Awsten’s lips turned up.

“She was outside, all alone and crying for help when I found her,” he continued, even though Awsten couldn’t see him anymore. “She was this minuscule kitten - I could fit her easily in one hand when she first appeared.” The fridge door opened and closed, and then Awsten could hear Mr. W’s footsteps heading further away on the creaky wood floor. “I started putting milk out, and she kept coming back. And then one day, I left the screen door open to see what she would do. She came walking right in like she owned the place. And she never left.” Mr. W chuckled fondly. “You won’t see her, though, most likely,” he added as he walked back to the front door. “She’s fond of hiding, especially when new people are here. She’s a very timid cat.”

“This cat?” Awsten asked just as Mr. W rounded the corner. His eyes shot open wide, and Awsten gave him a small smile.

The boy was crouched down on the floor, and in the time Mr. W had been gone, the little gray animal had crept out from under a table and padded curiously right up to him. Awsten was scratching behind her head while she purred and licked experimentally at his chin.

“How on earth did you do that?!” Mr. W exclaimed in wonder. 

Awsten smiled a little more as the animal stepped onto his knee. He reached down to pick her up. “I didn’t do anything. She just came out.” His hands were full, so he nodded at the dining room. “From over there.”

Mr. W shook his head in surprise. “Unbelievable. John - Mr. O’Callaghan - has been trying to meet her for almost two years, and I can never manage to even find her when he’s over. And that’s with me tempting her with food!” Mr. W huffed a laugh. “She must really like you.”

“I like her, too,” Awsten murmured. He nuzzled his head against hers and then set her down, and she curled behind him, drawing her tail across his shoulders as she retreated to her spot under the table. “Bye, Tuna,” he said softly.

He stood up, watching after her, and he and Mr. W traded jackets. This one was much softer: a navy zip hoodie with the Rice University seal printed on the left chest in white. Awsten slid it on and ran his fingers over the logo. “You went here?”

“Yes.” Mr. W passed him a chilly, plastic water bottle and then fiddled with his keys, trying to find the right one to lock the front door again.

“Then why do you teach us?” Awsten asked confusedly.

Mr. W paused and looked down at him, just as puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you’re really smart. Don’t you want to, like. I don’t know. Do something better than teach high school?”

Mr. W laughed. “Awsten, I always knew I was going to be a teacher. I love my job.”

“But you’re so smart.”

Mr. W was smiling, but his forehead crinkled. He still didn’t understand.

The cop’s shoulder radio went off, and Mr. W found the right key, so Awsten let it go. He wrapped his arms around his own stomach. “I feel a little better,” he offered.

Mr. W seemed very pleased with the statement. “I’m glad to hear that.” They headed together down the steps. “Are you warm enough?” he inquired.

Awsten nodded.

“Alright, good. I need to return to school, but Otto’s parents will be at the hospital waiting for you. You won’t be alone.”

Something about the way he said it felt strange to Awsten. It felt almost as if Mr. W was bringing something up from a previous conversation… one Awsten didn’t remember having.

Awsten nodded, trying to conceal the dread he felt. Mr. W was leaving, and now he was going to have to face Otto’s parents alone. Awsten’s fingers tightened around the water bottle, eliciting a loud popping sound.

Just before they got to the patrol car waiting at the end of the driveway, Mr. W stopped and set his hands on Awsten’s shoulders. “Awsten,” he murmured. “It’s going to be alright.”

Awsten looked at the ground.

“You’re not in any kind of trouble. I promise. No one is angry with you, and everything is going to be fine.” Mr. W gave the top of his arms a little squeeze. “Awsten, look at me, please.”

Awsten swallowed and obeyed.

“You are going to be just fine.”

 

* * *

**Petekey Memorial Hospital**    
**March 10, 9:49 AM**

When Awsten walked into the waiting room, he kept his arms wrapped tightly around himself and his head down. The last thing he wanted was more trouble, so he kept himself as quiet and small as he possibly could.

“Awsten,” came a voice, and there were two sets of footsteps rushing toward him.

Otto’s mom got to him first, cupping her hands around his chin and tilting his face up so she could see him. “Oh, honey, we were so worried about you,” she whispered. “Are you alright?”

“Don’t do that again,” Otto’s father ordered, but Awsten noticed a fearful look in his eyes. He wasn’t angry. He’d been… afraid.

Of what?

Awsten looked between them and then muttered, “I’m sorry.”

“We’ll figure something out, alright?” Otto’s mom told him, trying to smile. “It’ll be alright. We’ll figure it out.”

Otto’s father stepped forward and pulled Awsten into a hug, and Otto’s mother started to stroke Awsten’s hair. Awsten was shocked. He’d been expecting to be yelled at - or worse. This reaction was new to him. He wondered if this was what having nice parents felt like.

“You’re… not mad at me?” he asked, his quiet tone not concealing his shock.

“I wish you’d told someone where you were going,” Mr. Wood answered, “but no, Awsten. We’re not mad, son.”

“You’re not mad at me,” he repeated, a statement this time instead of a question.

“No.”

Otto’s mom took his hand. “Let’s sit down until Rian’s ready for you, alright?”

He followed her to the row of blue, cushiony chairs and picked one. Otto’s parents sat down on either side of him. Otto’s mom still had his hand in her grasp, and she was absently running her fingers over his skin. Otto’s dad had angled himself slightly in front of Awsten, as if he was prepared to protect him - from what, Awsten didn’t know. But he was hit with that overwhelming urge to blurt something out. Every second he fought it, it grew stronger.

The phone rang on the check-in desk, and a nurse walked by with a folder bursting with papers, and Otto’s mom kept rubbing the back of his hand. It had only been a few seconds, but Awsten couldn’t hold the words in any longer.

“I love you.”

Both adults turned to him with their eyebrows raised.

He glanced at each of them, but their reactions were unreadable. Awsten ducked his head down, blushing a little from embarrassment. Several seconds of silence passed, and Awsten started to shift awkwardly in his seat. But then-

“We love you, too,” Otto’s mom finally whispered.

He looked up at her and then at Otto’s dad, who was nodding in agreement with a small smile on his lips.

“Awsten?” Rian called. “Hey. Come on back. Let’s talk.”

Awsten got up without needing bribery or encouragement and followed his therapist down the hall to the dim room. It looked exactly as he remembered it from the week before.

“Is Godfrey here?” Awsten asked quietly as he sat down on the same corner of the couch.

“I’m afraid not,” Rian reluctantly replied. “Afternoons.”

“Oh.”

Rian nodded. “So what happened this morning? I heard you left school?”

Awsten looked down.

“It’s okay. Walk me through it.”

“We got up and got ready and stuff, and I was fine,” Awsten muttered. “Everything was fine til we got in the parking lot.” He shook his head and drew his knees to his chest.

“What happened in the parking lot?”

“Nothing. I just…” He snorted. “I got scared."

"Of what?"

"Of... being back there, I guess.”

“Understandably so.” Awsten didn't add anything, so Rian prompted, “How did you cope with the fear?”

“I didn’t. I just tried to ignore it, and we went inside.”

“‘We'?”

“Me and Otto.”

“Okay. And then what happened?”

“He went to his hall for class and I went to mine, but as soon as he wasn’t with me anymore, I just freaked out.”

Rian motioned for him to elaborate.

“Um, I started thinking somebody else was gonna do the same thing Michael did. I was checking everybody’s hands for a gun.” He shook his head and muttered, “Stupid…”

“It’s a perfectly normal response,” Rian told him.

“I’m sure running away is a normal response, too,” Awsten snapped sarcastically.

“Actually, yes, Awsten,” he nodded, “it is. I wasn’t surprised at all when I got the call about what happened. I’m just glad that your teachers found you so quickly.”

At Awsten’s skeptical look, Rian nodded again.

“It’s all very normal. I promise. Do you know what the most basic biological process is when people are faced with fear?”

Awsten stared blankly at him.

“It’s called the acute stress response, but most people just call it ‘fight or flight,’” Rian explained. “When your body perceives danger, your brain releases a bunch of chemicals that give you a burst of energy. With that energy-”

“I know what fight or flight is.”

“So you know that removing yourself from the situation is normal. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Awsten’s mind was far from changed.

“How were you feeling when you left?” Rian asked.

“Bad.”

“I bet," Rian nodded. "Can you give me more?”

“Um, just… I don’t know. Bad. I felt like I couldn’t leave cause I was gonna get in trouble with Miss Teri - she’s my social worker - cause I’m on probation so I can stay with Otto. But I also needed to leave. I was thinking, like, if I had to stay at school and go to class and stuff I was gonna be so scared the whole time. Plus I didn’t wanna go sit by Michael’s empty chair, you know? And what was class even gonna be like? They were all in the lockdown together while I was outside, so it would be their first time back since that. Otto talked about that a little last night, that he was nervous about going to the same classroom for the first time since the lockdown.”

“That's heavy," Rian noted, and Awsten nodded. "I would have been scared, too," he continued. "Was there something that pushed you over the edge and made you decide to leave?”

“I don’t know.”

Rian paused. “Awsten, I want you to close your eyes for a moment.”

He did.

“Visualize yourself in the hall this morning when you got nervous.” He waited while Awsten’s memory began working. “What are you seeing?”

“Kids everywhere. Backpacks. Hands.” He swallowed and repeated, “Hands.”

“And what else? Do you notice anything with your other senses?”

“I was, like, freaking out,” Awsten repeated. “Everything seemed really loud, even though it probably wasn’t much louder than normal. And I guess I was kind of looking around really fast.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Stressed.”

“Why?”

“Because somebody else might have a gun.”

Thoughtfully, Rian posed the question, “What would happen if someone did?”

Awsten had an immediate answer. “They might have hurt people like Michael wanted to. They… they might have taken me outside again and made me watch them…” His eyes flew open.

“Take a deep breath,” Rian soothed, and it was only then that Awsten realized his heart had started racing.

“I couldn’t stop him,” Awsten rushed out. “I couldn’t stop him, and he was - he was gonna hurt people, and I… he…”

“Breathe,” Rian repeated calmly. “Take a moment... In… out…”

“I hate this!” Awsten exploded, still short of breath. “I hate feeling like this all the time! I just want to be normal again!”

“You will be. It’s going to take time, though.”

“I don't want it to take time! This is  _stupid._  I know it's not gonna happen again, so why can't I just get over it?!”

“Awsten, your body is trying to compensate for what your mind is going through. I understand that you're frustrated, but it's much more complex than just-”

“No, I don’t care. This is fucking stupid. I want to talk about something else.”

Rian contemplated for a few seconds and then let the outburst go. “Like what?”

He huffed. “I don’t know. Anything.”

“Will you tell me about your parents?”

“Anything but that.”

Thoughtfully, Rian stood up, and Awsten watched unblinkingly as he moved to a shelf behind his desk and picked up a blue tray filled with sand. He grabbed a big handful of plastic characters from his desk and set them into a second, identical, sandless tray, and then he went back for more. When he had twenty or so figures in the box with some other things Awsten couldn’t really see, he brought it close to the couch and took a seat on the ground. He motioned Awsten down as well.

Hesitantly, Awsten obliged. He settled on the floor and dropped his chin into his hand.

Rian raked a finger through the sand and then asked, “Do you want to play with this?”

“What is it?”

“It’s a sand tray.” He motioned to the figures. “You can use as many or as few as you want. Make whatever you like.”

Awsten stared at him in confusion.

Rian just repeated, “You can use as many or as few as you want.”

“Do I have to talk?”

“Not if you don’t want to.”

Awsten took his time looking down at the figures. He sifted through them and examined the bright, plastic sand toys underneath. Slowly, he picked up a mid-sized Captain America and three small Lego people and set to work. By the time he was finished, Rian had written a full page of notes. Awsten had created a scene that had surprised even himself.

“Will you tell me about it?” Rian asked when Awsten sat back and wrapped an arm around one of his knees.

In one corner of the box, Awsten had positioned a big, black, red-eyed cat facing a small dog. Down the other side of the tray, he had used every Lego person that had been available to him and laid them all face-down. In front of them was the much-larger Captain America, but he was also lying prostrate in the sand.

Awsten pointed at the dog. “That’s me,” he muttered.

“And the cat?”

“That’s Michael.”

“He’s a lot bigger than you,” Rian observed.

Awsten just nodded.

“Where are you guys? Why are you away from them?” He pointed at the other characters in the tray.

“We’re on the football field. Michael’s not dead yet, though.”

“What’s he doing?”

“Yelling at me again.”

“Did he yell at you when you guys were on the football field last week?”

Awsten nodded, but he didn’t elaborate.

“Hmm. Do you want to tell me anything else about this part?”

“No.”

“Okay, cool. Hey, good job, Awsten. You’re doing great,” Rian told him sincerely, and Awsten gave him a tight smile. “What’s happening over here?” Rian inquired, gesturing to the Legos that were lying down.

“That’s all the kids at school.” He pointed out one specific Lego with dark hair and one in a blue shirt beside it. “This one’s Otto, and this one’s Alex.”

“Why are they on the ground?”

“Michael killed them."

Rian didn’t speak for a moment. “And then over here - what’s this?”

Awsten looked up to see that he was asking about Captain America. “That’s Mr. W,” he said softly. “He tried to protect everybody, but… Michael killed him, too.”

 

* * *

 

**Petekey Memorial Hospital  
March 10, 10:16 AM**

“My recommendation is that we keep him out of school for a while,” Rian told Otto’s parents, his voice barely above a whisper.

Awsten was several feet away, only half-listening as he stared at the green carpet with his eyes unfocused. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of Mr. W's sweatshirt and kicked his feet back and forth under his chair.

“I'll have to talk to Teri, and this would be, of course, temporary, but I do think it’s necessary at the moment. While he expressed some anxiety about being separated from you two - and especially your son - I really believe that being exposed to 24-hour care and removing the stress of having to go back to the site of the incident over and over will be beneficial to him. If in a few weeks he feels better, we’ll talk about going back. But for now, I think the best course of action is definitely to place him somewhere that will allow him to process what happened at school from a distance instead of in the same buildings.”

He was broken, and no one could fix him. Rian may not have said it, but that’s what he really meant. Michael had fucked Awsten up, and Awsten wasn’t strong enough to handle it, so he’d broken, and now Otto’s family couldn’t take care of him. Awsten was so weak that he'd ruined the one good thing he had.

He was quiet in the car, even when Rian called and let Otto’s mom know that the place he had in mind happened to have an open spot for Awsten. 

“I think this will be good for you,” Rian said over the line when Otto’s mom passed Awsten the phone. “I have another client there, and he’s doing really well. It’s a group home; it’ll be you and three other boys around your age. And if you hate it, we’ll talk about some more options in our next session, okay?”

“Okay,” Awsten whispered back. He glanced at the clock on the dashboard and was upset to find that it was barely 10 o’clock in the morning. The day had already felt so long.

 

* * *

 

** Otto's House  
March 10, 10:43 AM **

Awsten was busy stuffing his clothes into a duffle bag while Otto's mom brought him his toothbrush and toothpaste and some of Otto's things to borrow. She disappeared for a few minutes and then came back with a stuffed frog of Otto’s that Awsten had been attached to when he was younger. “Do you want to take Oliver?” she asked, a small smile on her face.

Awsten stared at the frog for a long time. Memories flooded back; taking Oliver in the car on the way to the movies; falling asleep in the bunk bed squashed against Otto's side with Oliver tucked under his chin; an old photo of Awsten and Otto where Oliver was hooked in Awsten's arm; privately playing make believe with Oliver, even after Awsten was far too old... He didn’t have stuffed animals at home, after all.

He shook his head.

Mrs. Wood frowned, and Awsten realized that she'd been confident that he was going to say yes. “Are you sure?”

Awsten nodded.

“Okay, sweetie.” She set the frog on Otto’s dresser and went over to wrap Awsten in a hug. “How do you feel?”

Awsten shrugged. “More like myself.”

This must have been the right thing to say, because for that, he got a kiss atop the head. “Good. Let’s get you some lunch before we go.”

“Wait.” Awsten pulled back to look at her. “What about Otto?”

“His father and I will talk to him when he gets home.”

“Can’t I stay til he gets here?”

She shook her head, brushing his hair off his forehead. “I’m afraid not, sweetie. They’ve asked me to bring you as soon as possible. Something about their activity schedule tonight.”

“Oh.”

“But I promise you, the three of us will come visit as  _soon_  as we can. Okay?”

He nodded at the ground.

He could feel her staring at him for a moment, but he ignored it until she said, “Awsten, I want to talk to you about all this. This... group home.” She sat at the foot of the bottom bunk and motioned for Awsten to come sit beside her, just like Otto often did. Once Awsten was settled, she said softly, “I want you to know that we’re doing this because we think this is the best thing for you right now. We want to help you. Do you know that?”

He nodded.

She paused and then continued, “I also want you to know what this isn’t. This isn’t us trying to get rid of you. This isn’t us saying that we don’t care about you, or that we don’t want to try to help, or that we think what happened last week is too big for us to deal with. Do you know that, too? Because I’m worried that you don’t, and the last thing I want is for you to leave here and turn cold again like last time.”

Awsten cast his eyes away.

Cautiously, Mrs. Wood wrapped her arm around Awsten’s back. “I know that you left last time and went home to your parents, and you were angry with my husband and I. Rightfully so. We didn’t fight for you - not as hard as we should have. But Awsten, listen to me. That won’t happen again. That will  _never_ happen again.”

He didn’t respond. 

“We loved you,” she pleaded. “We always have, and we always will. We were wrong, baby, we were so wrong, and I’m so sorry. None of this is your fault, sweetheart. Not one bit of it. I need you to know that. Do you know that?”

Awsten shrugged. 

“It’s not your fault. Otto’s father and I - we want you to be happy. And if that means taking a break from school for a little while so that you can feel safer and start to heal, then that’s what we’ll do.” She kissed his temple. “I know it feels really big and really scary right now. It feels that way for me a little bit, too.” She wrapped her other arm around his front and squeezed him in a hug. “I don’t want to let you go, because I can’t make sure that you’re okay.”

Awsten allowed himself to melt into her shoulder. No one had ever said anything like that to him before.

“But the people at this house? Rian told us about them, baby, and they sound really good. This is their job, helping kids like you that need some time to get their balance back. They do art, and music, and sports, and community service… And we’ll be two towns over and just a phone call away.” She brushed his hair back again and told him fervently, “We are  _not_ leaving you. We are  _not_ abandoning you. We’re just trying to help.”

“I know, Mom,” Awsten whispered.

Mrs. Wood nodded, but then Awsten’s words caught up to her. She wrapped a hand around the back of Awsten’s head to secure him to her, and she didn’t try to stop her tears. “I love you, my baby. I’m going to miss you so much.”


	8. Welcome Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you'll need these
> 
> https://imgur.com/60fVhwf  
> https://imgur.com/YH91HpL

** Peace and Purpose Home for Young Men  
March 10, 1:27 PM **

“Hey! You must be Awsten. Welcome, welcome. Come on in.” 

It was a blonde man that opened the door with bright, white teeth and his hair pulled messily into a bun. He had five o’clock shadow, black gauges in his ears, and a jean jacket over his gray hoodie, but he looked happy, and there was something about him that was almost… inviting.

Awsten stepped over the threshold and into the building, which was the complete opposite of the sterile, all-white facility he’d been picturing. Awsten had felt the need to double-check with Otto’s dad that they were in the correct place when they’d pulled up, because instead of a sort of hospital, he had parked the car in front of a two-story brick house. 

“I’m Lucas. It’s super nice to meet you. Cool hair.” 

Awsten smiled a little and ran his fingers through it. “Thanks,” he said softly. “Nice to meet you, too.” 

While Lucas introduced himself to Otto’s parents and shook their hands, a quote painted on the wall caught Awsten’s eye. 

_ When you pass through the waters, _  
_         I will be with you;_  
_ and when you pass through the rivers,_  
_         they will not sweep over you._  
_ When you walk through the fire,_  
_         you will not be burned;_  
_         the flames will not set you ablaze.  
Isaiah 43:2_

Around the words were several scribbles, some big and some small, in all different colors. When Awsten squinted at them, he realized that they were a collection of handwritten names. Kingsley, Jack, Calum, Shane, Justin…

“That’s our graduation wall,” Lucas explained once he followed Awsten’s gaze.

Awsten immediately averted his eyes.

“No, it’s okay; you can look,” Lucas smiled. He looked to Otto’s parents and explained, “When our gentlemen get discharged, they’re allowed to leave their mark. And whenever they come back to visit, they know they still belong and that they’ll always have a place with us.”

“That’s a wonderful idea,” Otto’s mom smiled. 

“Thanks,” Lucas grinned. "Did you have a good trip? You find the house okay?"

"Yes, it was a straight shot from Lakeview," Otto's dad nodded.

"Perfect," Lucas smiled. He looked to Awsten. “Do you want to see your room?” 

“Okay.” 

“You’ll have a roommate - Jawn. He’s great, but he’ll be furious if he finds out I gave you the tour before he had the chance,” Lucas said, chuckling and fondly shaking his head, “so I’ll just run you through the basics until he’s back in…” He glanced at his watch. “Half an hour. They're helping a new neighborhood with some gardening at their entrance, but they should be returning soon."

"How nice!" Mrs. Wood exclaimed.

“Yes, ma'am. I like to find lots of little projects like that. Okay, so this is kind of the heart of the house,” he explained, walking through the mismatched couches by the front door. He came to a stop and set his hands comfortably on the back of one of the sofas as he spoke. “We do check-ins every morning after breakfast - that’s when we’ll talk about how everybody’s feeling, set goals for the day, that kind of thing. And then we’ll run through the schedule. Every day is totally different. And usually busy.

“I’ll leave the rest of the downstairs for Jawn. All the bedrooms are up here.” As he started up the stairs, Lucas smiled reassuringly at Awsten over his shoulder. 

When Lucas turned to face front and jog up the staircase, Awsten glanced back nervously at Otto’s parents. 

“It’s okay,” Otto’s dad mouthed.

Awsten hitched his duffle bag up higher on his shoulder and picked up his pace. 

“This will be your room,” Lucas announced, leading Awsten through an archway to the right of the staircase. While there was no door, it was still a decent size with medium-gray walls. There was a messily made bed in the back corner and a perfectly made one closer to the door. Lucas gestured to the neater one. “You can drop your stuff there.” 

Awsten did.

“You get half the dresser; you and Jawn can decide how you want to split it up. Bathroom through there,” Lucas said, pointing to a door on the far wall. “No locks, but we’re very respectful of privacy here. If a door's closed, it means don't go in. There are two sinks and a closed off toilet and shower, so all of you can be in there at the same time. That definitely helps in the morning and at bedtime." 

Bedtime? Awsten had never had a bedtime in his life.

Lucas led the small family out of Awsten’s new room and directly across the landing toward another bedroom with no door, but they didn’t go in. “Ashton and Travis live in this one…” Next to it was a room that _did_ have a door. “...and this one’s mine,” Lucas said. He pushed the door open so they could peek inside. Lucas’ room had a window, and Awsten belatedly realized that his room didn’t. 

“You’re welcome in here any time of day,” Lucas continued, “and if you need me overnight, you’re welcome to knock and come get me then, too. Well - except not tonight; today’s actually my day off, so I won’t be here. But I wanted to come meet you. Zakk is in charge today.” Lucas pointed across the landing to the room next to Awsten’s that had a door. “That’s his room. Same rules as mine - welcome any time of day that he’s here, and just knock at night.” 

Awsten nodded. 

“Do you have any questions for me?” Lucas asked. “I know that was a lot really fast.” 

“Yes,” Otto’s mom replied immediately. “When can we visit?”

“Visiting!” Lucas smiled, clapping his hands together. “Thursdays and Sundays. The hours vary based on our schedule, but I usually know about a week out, so if you’re interested, just shoot me an email, and as soon as I’ve got it figured out, I’ll pass the information along.”

“Sounds good,” Otto’s dad nodded.

“Anything else? Questions, concerns, anything you want to see…?” 

Everyone turned to look at Awsten. He thought that question was more for Otto’s parents, so he just shook his head. 

“Alright, cool. Um, Awsten, I hate to do this to you,” Lucas winced, "but I’ve got to go through your bag. It’s policy.”

“Oh. Um, okay.” 

“We don’t allow cell phones, food, cigarettes, lighters, drugs or paraphernalia, any weapons-”

“I don’t have anything bad.” 

“Well, I just wanted to let you know, because if there’s anything you want to go grab out of your bag and turn in, you won’t get in any trouble for it. I promise. But if I have to take something, we’re going to have a problem.”

Awsten shrugged and put on a lopsided smile. “I really don’t have anything,” he said honestly. It bothered him that right off the bat, he wasn’t believed, but he figured that a lot of the guys tried to sneak stuff in. Lucas was probably used to a lot of lying.

“Alright, good. I’m looking forward to not finding anything. Um, go ahead and say goodbye while I do that. I’ll meet you at the couches when I’m done.”

“Okay.” 

“Okay. Take your time.” Lucas shook Otto’s parents’ hands again. “It was great to meet you two. Thank you for bringing him, and if you think of any more questions, just call, and Zakk or I will be happy to talk to you.”

“It was nice to meet you, too. Thanks, Lucas,” Otto’s dad responded. 

Lucas headed back into Awsten’s room to search his things, and Awsten headed back downstairs with Otto’s parents behind him.

“Your room looks nice,” Otto’s mom whispered, an encouraging smile on her face. 

Awsten nodded. 

“And Lucas seems wonderful! You’ll have to call us and tell us everything. Oh, I can’t wait to hear about the other boys,” she said excitedly. “Do you remember our phone number?”

“I’ve known it since I was seven,” Awsten admitted. 

Both of Otto’s parents laughed. 

“Listen, son,” Otto’s dad murmured, setting a strong hand on Awsten’s shoulder and leaning down a little. “I know this is scary. But I want you to promise me something.”

Awsten nodded again.

“Just… give it a chance, alright?” 

After his talk earlier with Otto’s mom, Awsten already had decided to give it a chance. Still, that sentence reinforced his decision. “I promise,” he murmured. 

Otto’s dad used his grasp on Awsten’s shoulder to pull him into a hug. Awsten wrapped his arms around Otto’s dad’s middle and squeezed his eyes shut. They pulled apart after a moment, and Awsten moved forward to embrace Otto’s mom. 

“I love you,” she told him.  
  
“Love you, too, Mom.”

“We’ll see you soon,” she whispered, her eyes shining with tears.

“Tell Otto I love him,” Awsten said desperately. “And - and I’m sorry.” 

“Oh, sweetheart,” she hummed, “he knows.” 

“Tell him again,” Awsten begged.

“We will.” She kissed his forehead and swiped her hand one last time over his hair. “You make sure you get enough to eat, okay? And wear a coat if you go out. I packed you that nice gray one of Otto’s that you like.”

“Come on, hon,” Otto’s dad said, draping an arm around his wife’s shoulders. He gave Awsten a little wave, which Awsten reciprocated, and then the door closed behind them. Awsten watched as they embraced for several seconds in the driveway and then climbed into the car. Otto’s mom pulled a tissue out of her purse to dry her eyes, and Awsten physically felt his heart twinge as the engine turned on and his makeshift parents backed down the concrete. 

He watched until the car rolled down the road and out of sight, and then he stood awkwardly alone in the entry, unsure of what to do with himself. He took a slow breath in and then went to sit on one of the mismatched couches. The dark blue fabric felt bumpy under his fingertips as he ran them across the seat. He took another slow breath. 

His mind wandered to Michael, to the icy metal pressed against his neck, to burying his hands in the blood that was colder than he’d expected, to the empty look in Michael’s still-open eyes-

“Hey! All clean,” Lucas smiled as he jogged down the stairs. “Thanks. I appreciate that.” 

Awsten nodded.

Lucas plopped onto the other end of the couch and made himself comfortable.“So, before the other gentlemen get back, I wanted to just talk to you. Get to know you, hear about what’s going on in your life, what brought you here, that kind of thing. Rian told me a little, but I wanted to hear it from you. So." He dropped his hands into his lap. "Tell me about yourself."

"Oh, I don't know," Awsten said, looking around for something to focus his eyes on. "I'm Awsten... I'm in twelfth grade..." He suddenly remembered what he'd told Rian. "And I grew up in Lakeview, and I like dogs."

"Cool," Lucas nodded. "I've never been to Lakeview. Is it nice?"

Awsten shrugged. "It's okay."

"So... what brought you to us, if you don't mind my asking?"

“Okay, um. Well, it’s two things,” Awsten responded slowly. He tugged Mr. W's sweatshirt sleeves down over his fingers. “Um, first, my parents got arrested, so I'm staying with a foster family.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. When did that happen?”

“Couple weeks ago.” 

“Why?” 

“Um, my dad hit me. Again.” 

Lucas looked a little upset. 

“But it’s for the best,” Awsten shrugged. “That was my best friend’s parents that brought me here. I’ve been living with them, and they’re really nice.” 

Lucas still seemed troubled. “And what’s the second thing?”

“Um, did you hear about what happened at Lakeview High?” 

“The boy that died by suicide?” 

“Yeah. Um, and that the school was on lockdown and everything?”

“Yeah, I remember. That’s awful. So sad.”

“So, he was in my class. Like, my first period class, not just my grade. Um, and I was late, and I was the only one in the hall… but he was there, too. And he had a gun and…” He huffed. “It was really bad. I got him to go outside so he wouldn’t hurt anybody inside, but then he, um. He shot himself. I couldn’t stop him.”

“Oh, Awsten, I’m so sorry,” Lucas murmured. 

“It’s okay.” 

“Hey,” Lucas said firmly, sitting forward. “It’s not okay. It’s _not_ okay.” 

Awsten smiled emotionlessly. 

“No, hear me,” Lucas urged. “You don’t have to say that it’s okay, because that’s not okay. What happened to you is not okay. But we can’t change that now. We can only try to work with it and through it and make things better.” 

“Yeah,” Awsten softly replied. His chest felt tight, and he began to grow worried because he'd been having more and more trouble catching his breath lately.

Lucas leaned back a little bit. “This all happened this past week, right?” 

“Yeah. We had the first day of school since it happened today, but I kind of… ran away.” Awsten couldn’t believe that school was still in session. It seemed like days ago that he’d fled to the lake, but Otto and Alex and Mr. W were all still in classrooms right that minute. Like nothing ever happened.

“Where did you go?”

“Um, the lake. Lakeview has a lake, like, right in the middle of town, so. But yeah, my English teacher came and got me, and I was a mess, like, crying and stuff - it was really bad. But he sat with me and he took me to his house for some water, and I waited on the porch while he got it, but then his cat came out, and he said it’s a really nervous cat, but she came right up to me. And Mr. W - he’s my English teacher - he said that one of the other English teachers has been trying to meet the cat for _two years_ , but he can’t get her to come out when he’s over. And she just came right to me. It was really cool.”

“Yeah, that’s awesome.”

“I also was really surprised, cause Mr. W lives in this huge house. Like, _huge._ I don’t know how that’s a thing, cause he teaches public school. But whatever. It was awesome. I wanted to see the inside. Oh, and Otto, my best friend - those were his parents before that dropped me off - he doesn’t even know I’m here. He’s gonna flip when he finds out I’m gone. It all happened really fast, you know? Like, we were at school, and then I freaked out and left, and then Mr. W came and got me, and then I went to see Rian, and now I’m here.” Awsten blinked. "I don't think he even knows I left school. Although I guess I should have been in band with him for fourth period, and I wasn't." 

The whirlwind of words came to an end, and Awsten bit his lip. “Sorry I’m talking so much. I think I just have a lot…” He drew his hand over his chest in circles a few times. “…in here. I don’t know.” 

“It’s totally understandable, Awsten. You’ve been through a lot.”

“I think after it happened, I kinda got used to not talking about it. Like, cause it didn’t feel… safe. But after today… I don’t know what happened, I just - I can’t stop. And I mean, that’s how I used to be. Like…” He dropped his voice. “Before.”

Lucas smiled “Awsten, that’s great.” 

“I guess, yeah. I kinda felt like I was losing myself, you know?” 

Lucas nodded. “Totally.” 

“But I was thinking earlier today, like. I don’t want to be the guy that goes through shit-”

“We don’t say that here,” Lucas interrupted. He wasn’t angry, but he was definitely stern.

“Oh, sorry. Um, _stuff._ And then gets trapped in this negative mindset. I kinda yelled at Rian about it… well, not _at_ him, _to_ him.”

“What did you say?” Lucas asked, his eyebrows creased.

“That I don’t want to be like this anymore.”

“What’s ‘this’?”

“Are you a therapist?” Awsten interjected. “Not, um. Not to be, like. Rude or anything. I was just wondering.” 

“No harm, no foul," Lucas replied, a small smile on his face. "I’m not, actually, no. But I like to know what’s going on with the gentlemen in the house. Can’t be good at my job if I don’t."

Awsten nodded.

"You don’t have to tell me this stuff; you’ll still see Rian. But I’m always here to talk.” 

“Oh.” He paused and then asked, “Is it okay if I keep going?”

“Yeah, of course.”

Awsten stared blankly at the wall, trying to relocate his train of thought. “I forgot…”

“I had asked you what you meant when you said you didn’t want to be like this anymore.”

“Oh, yeah. Mopey,” Awsten answered frankly. He sighed. “I just feel like I’m having a moment of clarity right now. Like I’ve been in this fog all these days, and this is the first time I’ve been able to actually feel like me again. I hate being moody and dark, cause it makes other people feel like that, too, even if they pretend like it doesn’t. And yeah, I get that something bad happened, but I - I hated the way it became, like… who I was. Does that make sense? Everything felt so bad. And dark. Like, literally. I wanted to be in dark rooms all the time. By myself. And I didn’t really want to talk to anybody, even Otto. I thought if I told him things, he might feel the way I felt.” He sighed. “And everybody was being so careful, you know? About what they talked about and what they did. And Otto’s parents checked on me a hundred times those first two days, I swear to god.”

“We don’t say that either.” 

“What, ‘I swear to god'?”

Lucas shook his head.

“Oh, okay. Sorry.”

Lucas nodded in acknowledgement of the apology. Awsten noticed that he didn’t say ‘It’s okay.’

“But yeah, I just… I’m ready to be me. But I think Rian was right… every time I think about school, my stomach hurts. So maybe not having to think about that will help.”

“Well, it definitely sounds like you’re on the right track, Awsten. Even if these current feelings fade and you feel ‘mopey’ again. You’ve been through something traumatic, and your emotions are bound to fluctuate.”

“Yeah. He says it’s okay to be mad and stuff.”

“He’s right.” 

Awsten dropped his chin into his hand, suddenly feeling a little drained. Silence filled the room. Lucas didn’t push for more from Awsten, just let him sit. Several moments passed, and Awsten began to grow sleepy.

“Have you eaten today?” Lucas asked quietly. 

Awsten nodded.

“What did you eat?”

“I had cereal and some orange juice before school, and grilled cheese and blueberries before I left.”

“Okay, good. How long did you sleep last night?” 

Awsten shrugged.

“It’s okay if you need to think about it for a second.” 

He didn’t need to think about it, though; he just didn’t want to admit it. No one, not even Otto, knew how difficult sleep had become. 

“I don’t want to lie to you,” Awsten blurted out. 

Lucas arched an eyebrow. “I don’t want you to lie to me either.” 

Anxiously, Awsten swallowed. “An hour and a half.” He looked up nervously. “I slept for an hour and a half.” 

“Is that the truth?” Lucas inquired.

Awsten nodded.

“Thank you for telling me.”

Immediately, Awsten was hit with a sinking feeling, like sharing so much of his story had been a terrible, irreversible mistake. He’d just laid all his cards on the table for a stranger to see. He was vulnerable again. Lucas could do anything to him, and he knew exactly how to hurt him. Awsten wished so badly that he'd been able to man up that morning and just go to Mr. W's class. He'd be on the way home with Otto soon, but no, he had to have a giant panic attack and run away. 

It was if a switch had flipped inside Awsten, and that clarity he’d been so happy to have slipped right through his fingers. He melted into the dark again. 

Lucas must have seen it, because he said softly, “I want you to lie down.” 

Awsten stayed still. 

“I find that the first two days here are the toughest. There’s a lot to get acclimated to, and I don’t want you trying to do that when you need rest.”

“I’m not tired,” he muttered.

“I didn’t say sleep,” Lucas countered amiably. “I just said lie down. Your body needs a break. I’ll be in my office,” he said, pointing to a door Awsten hadn’t noticed. “You can go up to your room or stay here, but I want you to lie down til the other gentlemen get back.”

Awsten’s instinct was to bite back, but he quickly clamped down on the urge. He was new here. He didn’t know what the punishment would be for breaking the rules, and he didn’t want to get off on the wrong foot with Lucas, anyway. He seemed okay. And Otto’s dad had asked Awsten to try.

Awsten let a little of his annoyance show, but he nodded. 

“Thanks,” Lucas said warmly. “I know it sounds weird, but just try to relax. Come get me if you need me. I'll check on you in a little bit.” 

Awsten waited til Lucas’ footsteps had faded into the other room before he laid back on the sofa. Quietly, he blew out a breath and folded his hands over his chest, lacing and unlacing his fingers. 

The ceiling was high here. Natural light flooded the room, but within minutes, Awsten’s eyelids grew heavy. He wondered absently what time it was and whether Otto had returned home and found him missing yet.

The next thing Awsten was aware of was the squeak of distant door hinges. 

“Is he here?!” asked an excited voice.

“What did we talk about in the van?” came a stern whisper. 

Then a stage whisper. “Oh, oops!” 

There were a few seconds of silence, and Awsten’s mind slipped back into sleep. But then there was a small cheer followed by a chorus of firm shushing. 

“Sorry!” 

“He’s sleeping on the blue couch,” someone murmured, and had Awsten been awake enough to try to place it, he would have been fairly sure it was Lucas’ voice. “Do _not_ wake him. I know you are all very excited about him, but it needs to wait. I’m sure you all remember how tired and anxious you felt when you first got here, so let’s be respectful, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. It’s quiet time now. I know the work ran long today; I’m very proud of all of you for sticking it out. Zakk, you too. But let’s go upstairs - quietly. He _needs_ sleep. Go get changed, maybe take showers.” There was a beat of silence. “What are we not going to do?”

“Wake up the new boy,” came two whispers in sync.

“Travis?”

“We ain't gonna be loud an' wake up the new boy.” 

“That’s right.” 

A patter of quiet feet started tiptoeing toward Awsten, but they were interrupted by a sharp whisper. “Weren’t you gonna add something?”

There was a sigh. “Oh, yes. Travis, you can’t grab onto our new friend.” 

“Why not?” 

“Do we grab people?”

The response was sullen and drawn out. “Nooo.” 

“Even if they have purple hair?”

“Purple hair?!” someone - probably Travis - cried.

_“Shh!”_

“I’m sorry!”

“If we get in there and he’s awake…” someone else whispered threateningly.

“Then we’ll have a conversation after dinner,” Lucas rushed to fill in. “Go upstairs. No talking.”

Awsten, half-conscious, listened to the quick, light feet on the steps. He was drawn closer to wakefulness by a delighted gasp and the subsequent hiss of, “Travis! Come on!” but the house was soon silent, and Awsten was sound asleep again in mere moments.

 

* * *

 

Awsten soon found himself on his hands and knees, thigh deep in blood. He sagged with his head bent as a scream tore from his throat, and his hair and forehead instantly grew wet as they dipped into the red mess beneath him.

“HELP!”

His mouth was wide open as he sobbed, lips stretched so far that it hurt.

“HELP! PLEASE! SOMEBODY HELP ME!”

The blood spread around Awsten as far as he could see, the puddle so vast that it resembled a small ocean. More red streaks streamed down from his hair to sting his eyes, stain his cheeks like tears, and dribble down his chin. He wondered if his teeth would be coated, too, and instantly, he could taste the sticky, metallic substance on his tongue.

Then came the bubbles.

What…

The blood in front of him was bubbling like a boiling pot on a stove, and out of it came a shape. It was small at first, but it grew bigger and bigger until it was looming in front of him, swaying like his drunken mother after a bad night. Awsten scrambled backwards, falling and splashing in the shallow sea, his back and legs now entirely soaked as well.

As the faceless creature drew closer, Awsten froze in fear. His heart was pounding so hard in his chest that he could hear each beat of his pulse in his ears. He wanted to stand up and run, to hit, to bite, to scream - anything. But his body betrayed him. All he could do was tremble and stare.

The blood monster leaned right into Awsten’s face, and Awsten heard himself whimper in fright.

The thing slowly tilted its head, taking Awsten in curiously. Awsten couldn’t see anything through the thick red, but he knew that the creature was evil.

And then it opened a pair of familiar gray-green eyes—

 

**Peace and Purpose Home for Young Men - Entry  
March 10, 4:58 PM**

Awsten jolted awake and flew to sit up, just managing to bite down on the gasp that fought to get out of his mouth. His fingertips frantically searched all over his skin, which was still white, not red. Not sticky. Not covered in blood.

_Okay. You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re fine._

He clutched at his chest, right over his hammering heart. One deep breath. In…  _It’s not real._  Out. Two deep breaths. In…  _He can’t hurt you._ Out. Three. In…  _Calm down._ Out. Four. In…  _It was just a dream._ Out. Five. In…  _Relax…_ Out.

Usually five breaths were all it took, but lately his nightmares had begun to feel more and more real. He shoved the navy sweatshirt sleeves up so he could study his arms again, double-checking that there were no brown stains under his nails, no splatters of blood that he might have missed the first time, and then he looked up. He’d expected to see the dark green walls of Otto’s bedroom, but he was in an open, brightly lit entry of a house. It looked slightly familiar…

Oh. Oh, yeah. The group home.

Awsten sagged back into the sofa, closing his eyes and willing his heart rate to return to normal. After a few moments of mentally running through the dream again, he opened his eyes and stared at the beige walls.

He wanted comfort, whether that was in the form of a house to himself, a hand caressing his hair, Mr. W’s gentle voice reading from a novel, Otto’s steadfast presence… He wouldn’t get those things, though. Not here.

Awsten pushed the crocheted blanket off his lap - someone must have brought it to him and draped it over him while he was sleeping; he didn’t want to think about that - and started to stand up. He was planning to search for the restroom when a voice interrupted him.

“Oh, good, you’re up. I was just about to come wake you.”

Awsten turned to see a guy with black hair down to his shoulders emerging from the office and going to stand behind the couch. “Oh. Y-yeah…”

“I’m Zakk,” he said, offering his hand.

Awsten reached up and shook it. “Awsten.”

Zakk smiled. “I know. Um, since you’re awake, let me get Jawn. He’s been waiting for you all day.”

“Okay. Um, where’s the… bathroom?” Awsten asked awkwardly.

“Oh, duh, sorry. It's over there,” Zakk answered, pointing past the staircase. “Under the stairs. You’ll see two doors; it’s the one on the right.”

“Thanks.”

Awsten disappeared to pee, and when he came back, there was a dark haired boy in a tight red hoodie standing in the doorway to the kitchen. He was trying very hard not to look like he’d been waiting around.

“Hey,” Awsten said hesitantly.

The boy looked up and feigned surprise. “Oh, hey. Awsten, right?”

“Yeah.”

“It's really nice to meet you. I’m Jawn.” He stuck his hand out, and Awsten shook it. “Welcome to Peace and Purpose.”

“Thanks.”

“Um, so, how old are you?”

“I’m seventeen.”

“Cool - me, too. Lucas didn’t give you the tour, right?”

“No.”

Jawn smiled and motioned for Awsten to follow him. “This is the kitchen,” he announced, starting off with no intro. “We all make meals in here together. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and if we want a snack, we have to ask. We don’t get to choose the food or anything, but everything’s pretty good. Travis is really picky, but even he still eats most of the time. It’s like, spaghetti and chicken and stuff.” 

Awsten nodded.

“The pantry’s unlocked right now, but Lucas will lock it if stuff goes missing, so just. Don’t steal stuff. We never have to worry about, like, not having anything to eat. Promise.”

“Okay.”

“As far as cooking and stuff goes, we all get jobs, and they rotate. There’s a fancy-pants spreadsheet and everything. So at breakfast you might have to set the table, and then at lunch you might have to make sandwiches, and at dinner you might be in charge of prep, like preheating the oven or boiling some water or something.” Jawn shrugged. “It’s posted on the fridge every morning, what we’re making and what we’re individually responsible for.”

“We have to cook?” Awsten asked worriedly.

“Yeah. But it’s never hard, and if you don’t know how to do something or where something is, you just ask. Um, the rule is ‘three and then me,’ which just means you have to ask three people - so all the other boys in the house - for help before you go to Lucas.” He dropped his voice and advised, “Just ask Ashton everything. He’s smart and really nice.”

Awsten hoped he would remember that. He repeated the name in his brain, trying to memorize it.  _Ashton. Ashton._  He followed Jawn out of the kitchen and back toward the bathroom Awsten had just vacated. Before they got there, though, Jawn opened the other door.

“This is the laundry room. You can basically do laundry whenever you want. Not really any rules about that. You know how to wash clothes?”

“Yeah.”

“Awesome. Then you’ll be fine.”

Jawn shut the door and led Awsten out from under the staircase toward the entry.“So here,” he said, going to the open room beside the kitchen, “is the dining room. We all eat together like a family, but we’re allowed to hang out in here, too. Unless somebody claims it, this will be your chair,” Jawn declared, pointing one out, “although Cal left two days ago and nobody’s taken it yet. So yeah, this one’s yours.” He smiled shyly at Awsten. “You’re right next to me.”

Awsten smiled back. That was a little comforting; Jawn seemed like good company.

“Lucas will sit on your other side,” Jawn stated, motioning to the head of the table. “And then the office…” He walked Awsten toward a small room right by the front door, the one that Lucas had disappeared into when Awsten laid down on the couch earlier that afternoon and Zakk had emerged from just a few minutes earlier. “You have a therapist, right?” Jawn asked as they paused in the doorway. The room was empty aside from a sofa, a desk, and a computer, but the boys didn’t go in. It was a pretty tiny space.

“Yeah.”

“So, you’ll go see your therapist wherever you usually see them. Unless there’s an emergency - then they come here. Travis’ therapist has to come sometimes, cause he has a lot of issues.”

Awsten blinked, suddenly wondering if he had ‘a lot of issues’ as well.

“Which is fine,” Jawn added quickly. “Just, um. Me and Ashton don’t have to do that with ours, so I don’t know if you’ll be in here a lot or what. It seems to be different for everybody. But Lucas and Zakk are both counselors, so if you need to talk to them, they usually do that down here, too. This is where they spend most of their time if they’re not with us since Lucas has to plan everything and answer emails and stuff.”

“Are they…” Awsten began, but his cheeks turned pink.

“What?”

“I dont know. Are they nice?”

Jawn smiled like Awsten had asked a silly question, and Awsten probably should have felt stupid, but instead, he felt immediately reassured.

“Lucas is seriously my favorite person in the world. Like - for real. Yeah, they’re nice. As long as you follow the rules and stuff, they’re awesome. And even if you mess something up, they’re really understanding, and they just wanna help, you know? They really do want the best for all of us.” Jawn looked away. “I didn’t believe that when I first came here. But I do now.”

“That’s cool,” Awsten muttered, not really sure what to say.

Jawn looked up at him. “What are you here for?” he asked. His voice sounded curious but almost sad.

“Um…” Awsten was trying to figure out how to say that he didn’t want to talk about it when he was saved by a loud voice from upstairs.

“Guys! Up and at ‘em! It’s about that time!”

Awsten looked to Jawn in confusion.

“Quiet time’s over,” he explained. “Come on. I’ll show you the school room before we have to start dinner.”

Awsten followed Jawn across the entry to a room with several tables and chairs, all pushed up against the wall like an inverted L.

“This is where we have school.”

“School?” Awsten echoed.

“Yeah. We have tutors that come work with us every day. Where did you go to real school?”

“Um, Lakeview,” he murmured, knowing that that admission would likely give away something about what he was doing at Peace and Purpose. But Jawn seemed clueless.

“Okay, cool. So your tutor will get your homework and your assignments and stuff from there and bring it, so that way you stay on track. You’re a senior, right?”

“Uh-huh.”

Jawn smiled. “Same. It’s extra important for us so we still graduate on time. Lucas is very serious about school.”

A full class load, cooking three times a day, community service, therapy… Awsten wasn’t so sure he would be able to keep up with all this.

“It’s not all day,” Jawn added, reading the stress on Awsten’s face. “Just a couple hours. Learning goes a lot faster when it’s one-on-one. Plus, we can get a lot of it done during quiet time, too. Like, reading and stuff. That’s what I usually do.”

“Jawn? Where are you?” came Zakk’s voice from upstairs.

“School room!” Jawn shouted in the direction of the door, and Awsten took a subtle step back to try to lessen the effect of the noise.

“Is Awsten with you?”

“Yeah!”

“Alright. Kitchen. Two minutes!”

“Okay!” Jawn smiled at Awsten. “One more thing to show you down here. I saved the best for last. Come on.”

They walked together out of that room and to the one next to it. “This is where we hang out most of the time.” He pushed the door open and flipped the light on. “Welcome to the game room.”

There was a TV mounted on the back wall, a foosball table underneath it, two arcade-style basketball games in one of the corners, an orange poster displaying a large group of people at a concert with the word SKILLET splashed across it, and the biggest couch Awsten had seen at the house yet.

“It doesn’t look like much, but it’s the most fun place we’ve got here. Besides, it’s what we make it, and we make it a lot.”

“What’s Skillet?” Awsten asked, eyeing the poster.

Jawn huffed. “Oh, god. You’ll find out soon enough. Lucas is obsessed.”

“Is it a band?”

“Yeah. ‘Christian aggro-metal,’” he recited.  
  
“That’s a thing?” Awsten asked with his eyebrows raised.

“Apparently.” Jawn flipped the light off, and Awsten gravitated toward the door.

“The phone and those computers in the other room,” he asked slowly. “Are we allowed to use them?”

“The phone is for the office, but the computers are for us, yeah.”

“No, I mean… for stuff outside of school? Like, could I call somebody or send some emails or something?”

“What, you got a girlfriend?” Jawn teased.

Awsten blushed. “No! But my, um. My best friend is gonna freak when he finds out I’m gone. And I wanted to tell my English teacher where I am, too.”

Jawn looked at him for a moment. “You have people,” he realized.

“Wh-what?”

“Nothing,” Jawn mumbled, his affect much flatter than it had been a moment before. “Just. Nobody comes here that has people. All of us are alone.” He started away. “Except you, I guess.”

Awsten was at a complete loss for words. “I…”

“Jawn, Awsten, let’s go!” Zakk called from the kitchen. “Macaroni and cheese waits for no man!”

Luckily for Awsten, Jawn brightened up quickly, because they were paired together to set the table, boil some water, make a salad, and get the drinks.

“Since you’re new, we get to work together, but we still have the same amount of things to do as usual,” Jawn noted. “So usually, it’ll only be half the jobs, but you’ll be working by yourself.”

Jawn led Awsten to all the cabinets and drawers, and Awsten tried to catalog them in his mind. He could still remember Ashton’s name as the first person to go to if he had questions, but he knew that there was no way that by morning he’d recall where the plates were and which drawer held the silverware.

“Hey!” came a bright voice. “You’re the new guy!”

Awsten turned around to see a tan boy about his age with a red bandana in his curly hair.

“Ash, this is Awsten,” Jawn introduced. “Awsten, this is Ashton.”

“Nice to meet you, mate,” Ashton said, clapping a hand on Awsten’s shoulder.

“Ashton,” Zakk warned, “how many times-”

“Oh, sorry,” Ashton muttered, immediately drawing his hand back.  
  
Awsten looked confused.

“We have a no touching rule,” Zakk explained.

“Oh, it’s okay,” Awsten told Ashton.

Zakk eyed them. “Regardless, it’s still a rule.”

“I always forget,” Ashton said sheepishly.

Jawn shook his head. “Yeah, and it’s your  _only flaw._ ”

Ashton smiled.

“Where’s Travis?” Zakk asked him.

“He’s coming.”

Just then, a boy as skinny as a skeleton strode into the kitchen. He stopped short at the sight of Awsten, his eyes wide.

“Um, hi,” Awsten offered. “I’m Awsten.”

“Your hair is  _so awesome_ ,” Travis gushed.

Awsten smiled. “Thanks.”

“What do we do when someone tells us their name?” Zakk prompted, not looking away from what he was doing with a glass casserole dish.

“Oh. ‘m Travis Riddle. Nice ta meet cha.”

“Nice to meet you, too.” Awsten remembered Jawn saying that Travis had a lot of issues. Awsten wondered if his own hair was about to become another issue. Luckily, it was fading fast.

“Did everybody wash their hands?” Zakk asked.

Awsten watched as the other three boys rushed to the sink, roughly bustling against each other in an attempt to try to be first. Jawn came out victorious, and Ashton wordlessly filed to the back. Jawn pumped clear soap into his hand and quickly scrubbed his fingers together and rinsed them off.

“You can go after Travis; I don’t mind waiting,” Ashton told Awsten.

“Oh, no, that’s okay,” Awsten dismissed from a few feet away. “You got there before me.”

“You sure?”

“Ash, you’re too nice,” Jawn declared. “Take your turn.”

Making dinner was significantly less difficult than Awsten had imagined it would be. He supposed it helped that five people were preparing it and that they all had specific roles to fill. When Awsten and Jawn’s jobs were done, they moved without prompting to help Travis and Ashton finish the macaroni casserole. Once Ashton slid it into the oven, the four boys traveled as a group to the game room, where Ashton invited Awsten to play foosball.

“Oh, no, that’s okay,” he declined.

“Are you sure?” Ashton asked, and he looked so hopeful that Awsten had to give in and say yes.

He and Ashton knocked the ball back and forth across the table while Jawn absently tossed a few basketballs into one of the hoops. Travis just sat on the couch, observing.

Awsten managed to score on Ashton, and Ashton grinned. “Nice move!” he congratulated, and he held his hand out for a high-five.

Awsten moved to high-five him back but then faltered.

“Dude, Zakk’s not here,” Jawn said, rolling his eyes a little. “It’s fine.”

Awsten smacked his hand against Ashton’s.

“If we play teams, I want you on mine,” Ashton declared.

“No, I call him,” Jawn argued.

Ashton laughed amiably. “You can’t call him after I just did. That’s, like… the opposite of how that works.”

"No, I-"

“How come you have purple hair and I don’t?” Travis asked suddenly.

Awsten turned to look at him. “Oh. Um…”

“There’s this stuff that’s kind of like paint that you can put in your hair,” Ashton said carefully, staring thoughtfully up at the ceiling as he concentrated on his answer. “It makes your hair turn a color, and it stays that way for a while, but if your hair grows, the color doesn’t show up on that part. And after a while, the color fades.”

Travis seemed confused.

“You know how if you leave something in the sun for a long time - like, months - it gets less bright?”

“Yeah…”

“It’s kind of like that.”

“Oh. Do you have more paint?” Travis asked Awsten, who shook his head. Travis looked back at Ashton. “Can Lucas get the paint for me?”

“Probably not,” Ashton said regretfully. “You can ask him, but… probably not.”

“But I want purple hair like Awsten,” Travis pressed.

Awsten ran his fingers through it self-consciously.

The door to the game room opened, and Zakk walked in. “I almost forgot,” he began, but he was quickly interrupted by Travis blurting, “Can I have purple paint?”

Zakk blinked and then tilted his head in confusion. “What?”

“Ash tried to explain hair dye,” Jawn supplied.

Zakk nodded in understanding. “Oh. No, Travis. Not here. I’m sorry, buddy.”

Travis deflated.

“Um, question,” Zakk said, already moving on. “Lucas is really proud of how hard you guys worked today. He said he got a really nice message from Andy from the site, so you can pick a treat.”

There was a murmur of excitement through the room.

“We’ve got stuff for ice cream sundaes, or we can vote on a Disney movie.”

“Movie!” Travis exclaimed.

“Trav, come on, man,” Zakk sighed.

“Oops, sorry! I forgot about voting.”

Zakk looked over at Awsten. “We close our eyes when we vote. Just put your hand up for what you want, okay?”

Awsten nodded and shut his eyes.

“Okay. Ice cream… and Disney movie.”

Awsten raised his hand. God knew he could do with a distraction before bed.

“Alright, two and two,” Zakk said, and Jawn and Travis both groaned. “That means I get to be the tie breaker. Movie it is.”

“Yes!” Travis crowed.

 

* * *

 

** Peace and Purpose Home for Young Men - Dining Room  
March 10, 6:04 PM **

“Alright, Jawn, it’s your turn.” Zakk held out his hands, and all the boys followed suit so that they were each grasping the hands of the people next to them. There was no one sitting to Awsten’s left, but Ashton reached across the table to him.

Grace, Awsten realized. They were going to say grace. Thank god; finally, there was something familiar. Otto's family said grace every night.

“Dear God,” Jawn started monotonously, “thanks for helping us make dinner. And thanks for Awsten coming here. Amen.”

Zakk cleared his throat.

“Oh, and bless this food we’re about to receive,” he recited. “Amen.”

“Amen,” everyone else echoed, and the room was filled with the sound of forks clanking.

“Amen,” Awsten muttered under his breath.

“Alright, let’s do high-lows,” Zakk said, and then he took a bite of pasta. He chewed, swallowed, and prompted, “Does somebody want to tell Awsten what high-lows are?”

All three of the boys opened their mouths to speak, but Travis was the loudest. “I will!” He looked to Awsten. “We say our most favorite thing and our least favorite thing of the day!”

Awsten nodded.

“It’s your high point and your low point,” Jawn explained.

“Who wants to go first? Travis, you went first last night - and the night before - so let’s let someone else have a turn.”

“O- _kay_ ,” Travis replied glumly.

“I’ll start,” Ashton volunteered.

“Great. Go ahead.”

“My high point was when the people at the neighborhood said that they thought we did a good job with the flowers, because I could tell that they meant it. It felt good to hear that since we worked so hard. For  _so_  long. And my low point was how tired I was when we were out there.” He shook his head, a light smile on his face. “Who knew such little flowers took so much work?”

Jawn nodded in fervent agreement.

“We were all very happy with the effort you guys showed,” Zakk noted. “Did the compliments make the tired feeling go away?”

“Actually, yeah.”

Zakk nodded. “Awesome. Alright, who’s next?”

Travis, having gotten the message that he needed to wait, kicked his feet back and forth under the table.

“I’ll go,” Jawn offered. “Um, my high point was finding out Awsten was coming,” he admitted, looking a little embarrassed. “And my low point was…” He swallowed. “I got jealous.”

“Of what?”

Awsten’s stomach squeezed nervously, but Jawn just shook his head.

“Do you still feel that way?”

Jawn nodded.

“What can you do to make yourself feel better?”

Jawn swallowed. “I’m gonna talk to Lucas when he gets home.”

Awsten couldn’t help but notice the last word in Jawn’s sentence.

“That’s a great idea. Anything in the meantime?”

“Recognizing what I have and not comparing myself to someone else.”

“Good, Jawn,” Zakk said, and Awsten could tell that Zakk sounded proud. “Awsten, would you like to take a turn?”

“Um, okay. My high point was…” He swallowed, thinking back through his day. Waking up in Otto’s room felt like weeks ago. “I got to play with a cat this morning. And my low point…” God, there was so much to choose from. The disastrous morning at school, Mr. W finding him sobbing on the ground, seeing Otto’s mom cry twice, having to say goodbye to the only family he’d known, the nightmare…

“I had a panic attack this morning,” he finally admitted. “Those are still really new to me.”

“How did you get through it?”

“Um… For a long time I was alone, and I couldn’t make it go away. But then, um. Someone helped me.”

“And it got better after that?”

Awsten nodded.

“That’s good, Awsten. Thank you for sharing that with us. I’m glad you’re feeling better now.”

“Me, too.”

“Okay, Travis, you’re up. Thank you for waiting so patiently.”

“My high point was getting to touch all them flowers,” Travis blurted immediately, “and my low point was finding out that I can’t get purple hair paint.”

Zakk smiled at him. “You were ready, huh?” he asked.

“You can probably get the hair paint when you leave,” Awsten noted. “I’ll tell you which one it is so you can get the exact color.”

“Yeah?” Travis asked, glowing.

Awsten couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, dude.”

“I have a new high point!” Travis announced.

Everyone laughed.

 

* * *

 

 **Peace and Purpose Home For Young Men**  
**March 10, 9:10 PM**

After two helpings of dinner, a few minutes drying dishes, and an hour and a half sitting on the floor in the game room watching Peter Pan, Awsten was feeling significantly better than he had that morning. He was still a little anxious and still a little distressed, especially about not having Otto by his side - and not being able to assure Otto that he was safe here - but it was comforting knowing that he didn’t have to face Lakeview High in the morning.

When the golden pirate ship had delivered the Darling children home to London, Zakk sent the boys upstairs to get ready for bed. The bathroom was full. Awsten and Jawn split a sink while they both brushed their teeth as Travis went through his bedtime medicine routine and Ashton showered.

“Did Lucas tell you about the shower rules?” Jawn asked as they headed back into their room.

“Um, no?”

“We used to have timed showers,” Jawn explained, changing out of his clothes and into an undershirt and pajamas. “Eight minutes max. There was a guy here before that took too long in the shower, I guess. Travis has the eight minute rule, but nobody else does, which is good because sometimes you need to calm down, you know, and you have some extra time to do that by yourself. That’s okay. But just don’t take too long all the time, or else the rule will come back. It’s like the pantry.” He reached under the bed and pulled out a textbook.

“Is that for school?” Awsten asked quietly.

“Yeah. I’ve got a test on Thursday, which means all my stuff for the two chapters are due. Physics.”

“So fun,” Awsten deadpanned.

Jawn rolled his eyes in agreement and gave him an overly fake smile. “You know it.”

Awsten turned away and opened his duffle bag, which was still sitting on his bed where he’d left it. He could tell that Lucas had searched through it, but everything was still inside. Awsten dug to the bottom for his pjs but caught a flash of familiar green fabric. He pulled the frog out before he could stop himself.

“Aw,” Jawn chuckled teasingly.

Awsten whipped around, his cheeks flaming red. “Oh - no, dude, I didn’t pack this. My, uh…” He trailed off, not wanting to continue, but Jawn looked curious.

“Your…?” he echoed.

“My friend’s mom did.” He sighed and toyed with Oliver’s foot. “I told her not to, but she must have snuck him in when I wasn’t looking.”

“Cute,” Jawn said emptily. His gaze had dropped down to his textbook again, where he folded and unfolded the bottom corner of the page.

Awsten awkwardly crossed the room to set the frog on the dresser like Otto's mom had earlier, and then he went about putting pajamas on. A few minutes after he had taken a seat on the bed and started staring blankly at the wall, Zakk’s voice called out, summoning the boys back downstairs.

“Aren’t we going to sleep?” Awsten asked.

“No, we have to do our night meeting first. I don’t know why we get ready for bed and then do it. It’s weird.”

Awsten trailed behind the other boys down the stairs and over to the couches. Jawn took a seat in the armchair, and Travis filled the space beside Zakk. Awsten sat beside Ashton and waited to see what would happen.

“Alright, safety levels?” Zakk asked, his eyes on a clipboard as the boys settled in.

“Ten,” Ashton and Jawn chorused.

“Ten,” Travis nodded.

Zakk leaned across the space to pass Awsten a piece of paper with a little [chart](https://imgur.com/6axgXcg) on it. Awsten skimmed it and then agreed. “Yeah, ten.”

“Jawn, how are you feeling?” Zakk asked.

“Um… I feel… calm.”

Zakk made a note on the clipboard. “And remind us of your goal for today and tell us if you met it.”

“My goal was to read chapter twelve of my physics book. I’m almost done. I have, like, two pages left, which is kind of more than I thought I’d be able to do, so.”

Zakk smiled at Jawn. “Alright, sounds good. Ash? How you feeling, man?”

“I feel magnificent,” Ashton said, over-enunciating and smiling genuinely. "Happy."

“Oh yeah? How come?” Zakk asked with a chuckle. Awsten watched upside-down as he wrote ‘happy’ on the line below Jawn’s ‘calm.’

“I don’t know. I just had a good day. It was… rewarding.”

“What was your goal?”

“Not to complain about the yard work. And I didn’t,” he grinned.

“Good. I know we all appreciated that. Travis? How are you feeling?”

Travis shrugged.

Zakk waited patiently while he decided.

“I… am…”

Jawn sighed quietly.

“I am mad,” he finally said.

“Really?” Zakk asked, surprised. “Can you tell me why?”

“Not a lot mad, just a little mad,” Travis explained. He pointed at Awsten, who shrank a little under the harsh gaze. “I want purple hair.” Then he glared at Zakk. “And I want Lucas to come back.”

“He’ll be here before you even wake up.”

“Where is he? Where does he go?” Travis demanded.

“Travis-”

“Where  _does_  he go?” Jawn echoed. “Does he have a wife? Or like-”

“That’s not a question for me. You’ll have to ask him about his days off,” Zakk interrupted, waving them off. 

“Aw,” Ashton said sadly. "You got me curious."

“Travis, do you want to talk about your anger?”

“No.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I want Lucas.”

“Alright, well, you’re going to have to wait on that. Will you tell us what your goal for the day was?”

“To not have to have a talk with you.”

“And did you fulfill your goal?”

Travis shook his head, looking discouraged.

“Hey, that’s okay, man,” Zakk told him reassuringly. “We'll try again tomorrow, yeah?”

He nodded glumly.

“Alright, Awsten, you’re up. I know you didn’t set a goal with us this morning, so we’ll skip that part, but will you tell us how you’re feeling and maybe something that you accomplished today?”

“Okay, um… I’m feeling… tired. And I… learned everybody’s name?”

“That’s an important one,” Zakk smiled. “And I know ‘tired’ is a great descriptor right now, but can you give me a feeling word? An emotion.”

“Oh. I’m…” Awsten had to take a moment to think. He hoped Jawn wouldn’t be annoyed with him the way he was with Travis. “I think I’m kind of nervous.”

“Why?”

Awsten shrugged.

Zakk waited.

“I just… it’s a new place.” He didn’t add his anxieties about not sleeping near Otto, about possibly having a nightmare in front of people that wouldn’t understand, about spending the next several days - weeks? - having to actually confront what had happened to him both with his parents and at the school…

“Understandable,” Zakk nodded. “I’m here if you need anything, okay?”

Awsten nodded, pulled the cuffs of his sweater over the tips of his fingers, and drew his fingers into loose fists.

“Does anybody have anything they want to talk about?” Zakk looked around the circle, but when no one responded, he nodded and stood up. The boys followed suit. “Alright, then. Goodnight, guys.”

There was a small chorus of goodnights in response.

“I’m going to log all this into the computer,” he said, holding up the clipboard, "and when I come upstairs, I expect all the lights to be out, yes?”

“Yes,” Ashton echoed.

“See you in the morning.” They started up the stairs, and Zakk headed for the office, but he stopped before he got all the way in. “Oh - Awsten, did Lucas show you where my room is?”

“Yeah. That one, right?” Awsten asked, pointing up at it.

“Yep. Just let me know if you need me,” he repeated.

Awsten nodded, smiling a little. Zakk seemed nice, but Awsten wouldn’t be waking anybody up for anything if he could help it.

He sighed quietly as he walked through the doorway and subsequently collapsed onto the twin bed. Jawn grabbed the book out from under his bed and quickly flipped to the page he’d left off on.

“Are you, like,” Awsten began, trying to figure out how to phrase his question without coming off as rude or using the word ‘nerd.’ “…an honor student?”

Jawn barked a laugh. “No. God, no. I’m trying to pass. Right now, I’m not, and I really don’t want to be stuck in high school for another fucking year, so.” He held up the book.

Awsten nodded. He pulled the covers back and climbed under them, positioning himself to face the wall. His eyes fluttered shut just as Jawn turned the thin page of his textbook. Although he was tired, he didn’t feel sleepy, and he wasn’t sure he could fall asleep, but despite his nap, the day had been exhausting.

He must have been more drained than he realized, though, because he was drifting to sleep when Jawn suddenly whispered into the silence, “Hey, Awsten?”

Awsten opened his eyes to find the lamp off. He wasn’t sure when that had happened. “Yeah?”

“Shh. Zakk’s up here and he didn't close his door yet.”

He lowered his voice. “Oh.” There was a pause. “What?”

“About the phone,” Jawn whispered. “You have to ask for permission first, but you can use it. I don’t know about email; you’d have to talk to Lucas.”

Awsten was silent for several seconds, shocked that Jawn had given him an answer. About five hours later, yes, but still. He said sincerely, “Thanks, Jawn.”

“No problem.” Jawn’s covers rustled loudly as he turned over, trying to get comfortable.“Goodnight.”

“Night.”


	9. Defying Gravity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> posting the 23rd chapter on the day before i turn 23!! seems fitting ;)

** Peace and Purpose Home for Young Men - Jawn and Awsten's Room  
March 11, 6:30 AM **

“Good morning, gentlemen! Rise and shine!” 

Awsten pulled himself out of a heavy, dead sleep to blink blearily. He had no idea where he was or why some man was happily yelling ‘rise and shine’ at him, but when he turned his head and saw a boy in a bed across from him, and it clicked. 

“What time is it?” Awsten rasped to Jawn.

“Six thirty,” Jawn replied, his voice thick with sleep.

Awsten groaned.

Someone jogged down the steps, light on their feet, and Awsten figured it was too early for it to be anyone but Lucas. 

Awsten sat up and rubbed his eyes, yawning widely. “Why are we up so early?” 

“Breakfast.”

“But why at _six thirty_?” 

“Hell if I know.” 

The sound of pots and pans clanging together filled the air for a second, and then the downstairs faucet turned on.

“I hate not having a door,” Awsten complained.

“You’ll get used to it. I don’t even think about it anymore.”

“Lu-cas!” came a shout. It sounded like Ashton.

“Yeah?” Lucas yelled back.

“Travis just threw up again!”

There was a pause. Awsten shot Jawn a surprised look.

“On the bed?” Lucas called, and it sounded like he’d come to the bottom of the stairs.

“Sink!”

Awsten could hear him sigh. “Okay. Don’t rinse it. I’ll be right there.” Lucas retreated to the kitchen for a moment and then jogged back up the stairs. He peeked his head into Awsten and Jawn’s room on his way to investigate. 

“Good morning, gentlemen.”

“Morning,” they replied. Jawn grudgingly sat up.

“Awsten, how’d you sleep?”

“Good.” 

Lucas smiled warmly. “Good. Jawn?”

“Yeah, good.”

“Excellent. Um, Jawn, the chart is up on the fridge. I’m going to take Travis into the office for a minute, so if you and Ashton would get breakfast going while I talk to him, I would really appreciate it.”

“That’s fine.” 

Lucas nodded. “Thank you. I knew I could count on you.”

Awsten didn’t miss the way Jawn smiled down at the covers as Lucas walked out. 

Lucas headed into the bathroom, and he lowered his voice. “Heyyy, Travis. You okay, man?”

Jawn went to the dresser, slid Oliver a few inches off to the side, and opened one of the drawers. 

Awsten shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what to do with himself. “Um. I was gonna take a shower, but…” 

“They probably won’t take more than a few minutes,” Jawn assured him. “Just get everything else ready so you can come down on time.”

“When-”

“Six fifty.” 

“Mmkay.” Awsten laid a set of clothes out on his bed as Jawn got dressed. 

Sure enough, the tap in the bathroom turned on a moment later.

“Oh, and we have to make our beds every day, too,” Jawn noted as he started working on his own. 

“Oh.”

“It doesn’t have to be fancy. Just kinda pull it together.” 

“Okay.” 

Awsten heard Lucas head back down the staircase, still with far too much pep in his step for six AM - and dealing with puke, too. Jawn nodded at the door. “It’s all yours.”

Travis was brushing his teeth when Awsten went into the shared space. Awsten could smell what had happened, but he felt bad for Travis.

“Hey,” Awsten said hesitantly. “You okay?” 

Travis looked over, seeming a little surprised that Awsten had initiated a conversation with him. “Yeah. I’m not sick; it just happens sometimes.” 

Awsten nodded. At least Travis didn’t seem embarrassed.

Awsten disappeared into the shower room and shut the door. There was a divider on the tile floor, maybe four inches high, that separated the shower from the rest of the space. Awsten hung his towel on the hook and leaned in to turn the water on. While it warmed up, he shed his clothes, taking the time to actually fold them for once before he set them down. From the other side of the door, Awsten heard Jawn call something to Ashton and Ashton reply, but he couldn’t make out the words. Awsten stuck his fingers under the water and, satisfied that it was hot enough, stepped under the stream.  He tipped his head back to wet his hair, and once that was done, he glanced at all the bottles on the floor. There were two different kinds of soap in the front, which he moved out of the way so he could search for shampoo. When he found it, his stomach dropped. 

He shakily picked the red and gray bottle up in his hand, staring down at it unblinkingly. Out of all the brands in the entire fucking world, it had to be this one… 

And there was no other choice. Fuck.

Awsten swallowed and squeezed some into his palm, attempting not to pull the familiar scent in through his nostrils; he would gladly take the smell of the vomit over this. He began trying desperately not to think about all the nights he’d spent in the shower, using the private space to hide away from his parents on the rare occasions they decided that they actually cared about him (only to punish him, of course), washing his hair with exactly the same shampoo. 

He lathered it up and rinsed it out as quickly as he could, but as soon as he’d laid eyes on the label, the damage had been done. After a minute or so with some soap, he emerged from the shower and headed back to his room to grab his clothes. (He hadn’t thought about the fact that the bedroom had no door, and even though Travis was gone and Jawn and Ashton had disappeared downstairs to work on breakfast, he still went into the bathroom to change.)

He dressed and toweled his hair as close to dry as he could manage before slipping downstairs. 

“Hey,” Ashton greeted brightly. “Can you grab some eggs from the fridge?”

“Yeah, sure,” Awsten replied, glad for the distraction. “How many?”

“Umm,” Ashton hummed. He leaned over and checked a piece of paper lying on the counter. “Three.”

Awsten crossed the room to the refrigerator, found the eggs in the door, and brought three to the counter where Ashton and Jawn were poring over a recipe.

Ashton smiled at him gratefully. “Thanks, man.” 

“No problem.” Awsten headed back to the refrigerator to look at the spreadsheet, scanning it until he found his name under the heading that read BREAKFAST. Thankfully, all he had to do was set the table, pour the drinks, and help out with whatever the other boys needed. 

By the time he was finished, Travis and Lucas were heading into the kitchen. Awsten had gone ahead and - with Ashton’s assistance - started the pan of scrambled eggs that Travis had been assigned. Travis murmured a sincere word of thanks as Awsten passed him the spatula he’d been using. 

Soon, two large stacks of steaming pancakes were placed on the table, and the boys sat down to say grace. 

“Ashton, it’s your turn,” Lucas reminded, walking up to the table and shaking a few pills out of little orange containers. 

“I know,” Ashton smiled. He waited until Lucas had set one pill at Travis’ napkin and another beside Jawn’s to prompt, “Hands, lads.”

Awsten was so busy staring at the medicine bottles, trying to make out the little letters printed on the labels, that Jawn had to nudge him to get him to reach for Lucas’ hand. 

“Oh,” Awsten mumbled.

He bowed his head and glanced down at Jawn’s tiny blue pill as Ashton began saying grace. He could, miraculously, read what was carved into it - “PAXIL 30.” 

Awsten wondered what Paxil was.

Breakfast flew by with easy conversation - just the boys catching Lucas up on what he’d missed the day before - and a while later, Awsten found himself seated on the maroon couch for the morning meeting. They each checked in with their safety levels, and then Lucas got out the clipboard Zakk had been writing on the night before. Instead of one sheet, it had several pieces of paper on it. 

“Hello, everyone,” Lucas greeted, which Awsten thought was a bit odd, because they’d just spent the last forty-five minutes together making breakfast, eating it, and cleaning it up. Lucas was smiling, though, and no one else seemed to think his words were strange. He had that same jacket on that he’d had the day before, and his hair was in a ponytail again. Awsten thought he seemed kind of cool. 

“We’ve got another busy day ahead of us,” Lucas told them. “Today we’re going on another outing; the church needs one of their rooms repainted, and they reached out to us for help.” 

“Painting?” Jawn groaned.

“Jawn,” Lucas warned lightly. 

Jawn sighed, sagging back into the sofa cushions. 

“Brendon and Ryan will be here very soon for school, and we’ll leave around ten forty-five for the church. They’ll provide us with lunch in return for our work. I expect you all to be the kind and generous gentlemen that I know you to be. Once we finish, we’ll come back here for some quiet time, and I know that most of you will likely still have homework, and it’ll be up to you to stay on top of that. From there, everything should run as usual. Does anyone have any questions?” 

No one responded.

“Alright, then. Who would like to start us off?”

“Me!” Travis cried.

“Okay, Travis, let’s see…” 

“Nine, forty, nine, one-” Travis began, but Lucas interrupted him. 

“Slow down,” he reminded gently. “First, tell us how you’re feeling today.” 

“But I already told you. In the office, before.” 

“You told _me,_ ” Lucas nodded, “but let’s tell the group.” 

“Oh. I’m feeling mad still.” 

“Why?” 

“Cause I been thinking about my family,” he mumbled, his eyes trained on his shoes. 

“What about your family?”  
  
“How they treated me. How nobody else had to live out in the shed like I did. Nobody else in my family and nobody else I know.”

Awsten looked confusedly at Lucas, who hadn't taken his focus off of Travis, his eyebrows knitted together in empathy.

Ashton’s hand moved in Travis' direction, and it caught Awsten’s eye, but before it could get anywhere, Ashton stopped short and set it in his lap. 

“I don’t want to say nothing else about it,” Travis declared as he realized that Lucas was waiting for him to continue. 

“Okay. Go ahead and rate your pain for us.” 

“Nine.”

“Wh-” Lucas began, but Travis already knew what the question was going to be.

“My belly still feels kinda bad.” 

“Alright. I saw you eat a little bit at breakfast. Did that help?”

Travis nodded.

“Okay. And rate your depression.”

“Forty,” Travis muttered.

Lucas’ eyebrows rose, and he observed, “That’s a lot for you.” 

Travis shrugged. “I been thinking about my family,” he repeated.

Lucas nodded and made a note on his sheet. “How many-”

“Nine. And one.” 

“Okay. What’s your goal for today?” 

“To feel better.”

“That’s a good idea; can you set it as something more quantifiable?” 

Travis gave him a puzzled look.

Lucas rephrased. “Something we can measure, remember? Maybe to get your depression number down by tonight or to-”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

“I want it to be zero.”

“That’s a big difference,” Lucas pointed out, but when Travis didn’t change his mind, he wrote it down. “Alright, thank you, Travis. Who’s next? Awsten?” 

Awsten swallowed and looked at Lucas with nervous eyes. 

“How are you feeling this morning?” 

“Fine,” Awsten said.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Lucas smiled. “Can you label it with an emotion?” 

“Um… n… neutral?” 

“I use ‘calm,’” Jawn offered.

“That,” Awsten said. 

Lucas wrote it down. “And rate your pain for us. Headache, nausea, soreness, anything like that. Our scale goes from one to 100.”

“One. I’m fine.” 

“Okay, and what about any depression? Same scale.”

Awsten swallowed. He was used to not paying any attention to his emotions at all, and now he was supposed to identify them, name them, rank them and share them with a group of people he hardly knew? “One,” he lied. 

Lucas seemed surprised, but he didn’t press it. “How many hours did you sleep last night?” 

“I don’t know when we went to bed,” Awsten admitted, “but I slept all night.”

“That’s nine hours,” Lucas said. “Did you wake up at all overnight?” 

“Um, just for a second.”

“That counts. How many times?”

“Twice, I think.” He watched as Lucas scribbled a 9, a slash, and a 2. 

“Have you thought about a goal for today?” 

“Um, no…” 

“Alright. Why don’t you think about that while Jawn has his turn, and then we’ll come back to you?” 

“Okay.” But Jawn and Ashton both went, and Awsten still hadn’t settled on anything. 

“I need something,” Lucas said with a kind smile, tapping his pen absently on the edge of the clipboard. “It doesn’t have to be earth-shattering, but I need something. Brendon and Ryan will be here any minute.”

“I…” Awsten stalled. He wrung his hands in his lap. “I want to… Um…” He couldn’t think of anything. His mind had never been so blank in his life, and everything was either too big or irrelevant. 

_I don’t want to freak out._

Too late.

_I don’t want to be a burden to Otto and his family._

Too removed.

_I don’t want to disappoint Mr. W._

Too pathetic.

Without thinking about what he was doing, Awsten buried his face in his hands. 

“Hey, Awsten?” Lucas said gently. “It’s okay.” His voice quieted. “Gentlemen, go ahead and get your stuff ready for Ryan and Brendon. Awsten and I will be right in.” 

Awsten listened as the other boys got up and walked away, and then he felt Lucas drift toward him.

“I’m not crying,” Awsten bit before Lucas could say anything.

“Okay,” Lucas replied easily. “Come on. Let’s go in the office for a minute.” 

Awsten stood and followed him in, his arms crossed over his chest. 

“What’s going on?” Lucas asked.

“Nothing,” Awsten snapped. “I just can’t think of anything.” 

Lucas looked at him for a long moment and then said carefully, “I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that you rated your depression as a one this morning. This isn’t a mental health group, but all of the young men who come through here have been through something difficult, and-”

“I’m not depressed.”

“I’m not saying that you are. What I’m trying to say is that you’re displaying a fair amount of irritability for someone who isn’t feeling upset.” 

He snorted defiantly. “I’m fine.”

“Awsten, lying isn’t going to help you here.”

“I’m not lying! I really just couldn’t think of anything!” 

“Alright, then let’s think of something together.”

At the sound of Lucas’ placating tone, Awsten wanted to start a fight, but he bit his tongue. Otto’s dad had asked him to try, yes, but what kept him quiet was the fact that he kept picturing Mr. W and what Mr. W would want him to do. 

He took a deep breath and raised his eyes to find Lucas watching him closely.

“What are you thinking about?” Lucas softly asked.

He cast his gaze back down. “I don’t know.” 

Lucas set his pen down. “Awsten, I want to help you. But I can’t help you if you’re not honest with me.” He paused. “Do you understand that?” 

Awsten nodded. His voice was quiet as he confessed, “I was thinking about trying to make the right choice.” 

“And what’s the right choice?” 

“Not arguing with you.” 

Lucas smiled. “That’s very wise, Awsten. And I’m not just saying that because I don’t want to argue with you, either. You’re thinking outside of your emotion, which is very impressive.”

Awsten didn’t say anything.  


“Have you been in therapy before? Your file says you haven’t.” 

He shook his head.

“Have you been working on mindfulness with Rian?” 

“I don’t... think so. I don’t know what that is.”

“Okay. Well, I’m very impressed with you either way.” 

Awsten fiddled with his fingers. “I don’t want to cause any problems,” he said softly. “I want to be done with that.”

Lucas was quiet for a moment. “You… were in detention pretty often at school, right?” 

Awsten nodded. 

“What kinds of things were you doing to get detention?”

“Whatever I had to,” Awsten shrugged emotionlessly. “I never did my homework, I’d come in late and talk while the teacher was, be places I wasn’t supposed to be, and… just. Whatever I had to do.” 

“Whatever you _had_ to do,” Lucas echoed thoughtfully. “Why did you feel the need to get detention?” 

Awsten looked away, a mirthless laugh escaping his lips. 

“We’re getting off track, aren’t we?” Lucas realized, and he shook his head at himself. “Let’s go back to your goal.” 

“I don’t want to get in trouble today,” Awsten said immediately. God, why couldn’t that have popped into his head six minutes ago?

“Sounds good.” Just then, a car pulled into the driveway, and Lucas smiled. “Perfect timing. That’ll be the tutors.” He motioned to Awsten. “You remember where the school room is?”

Awsten nodded.

“Alright. Go on in there.” Lucas smiled as though he’d just realized something. “You’re going to _love_ Brendon.” 

Awsten left the office and headed to the school room. 

“You get to sit by me,” Travis said proudly when Awsten walked in, but when Awsten went for the chair beside him, Travis quickly changed his tune.  “No! One more. You have to leave space.”

“Oh, okay,” Awsten said quickly. He wondered if that was another one of Travis’ ‘issues,’ not wanting to be too close to people, although it hadn’t seemed to be a problem before.

“Travis, be nice,” Jawn sighed. “That’s where Brendon sits,” he explained to Awsten.

“Oh.”

“Bo-oyyyys!” came a cheerful voice. “Good morning, good morning!” In through the door waltzed a man in tight pants with wild eyes and slicked back hair. He had a stack of books that Awsten recognized tucked under his arm. “Travis, my man!” the guy cried, going to hug Travis and happily muss his hair. “How are you?” 

“Good,” Travis crowed, bouncing into the embrace. 

“Wonderful! And you - now _you_ , my little cotton candy dream, _you_ must be Awsten.” 

Awsten’s eyebrows arched. 

“ _My_ name is Brendon, and I am going to take you on the wildest ride through education that you ever imagined! I plan to enrich your life in ways beyond your biggest dreams! Together, we will-”

“Bren. Are we really doing the speech again?” 

Behind Brendon was standing the man who’d spoken, a taller man with messy hair, gentle brown eyes, and a distressed James Bond t-shirt. 

Brendon sighed dramatically. “I guess not.” He winked, dropped into the chair between Awsten and Travis, and unceremoniously slammed the large stack of books onto the table, making Awsten jump. Brendon must have immediately noticed the uneasy look on Awsten’s face, because he quickly wrapped a hand around Awsten’s wrist. “Oh, I’m sorry!” he said quickly. “They told me not to make loud noises, and I forgot.” 

Awsten smiled awkwardly and pulled his hand away. “It’s okay.” 

“No, I’m really sorry,” he insisted. 

“Awsten, I’m Ryan,” the other man said. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Awsten gave him the same uncomfortable smile and didn’t speak. 

“I went to your school and got all your things,” Brendon noted, sure to keep his voice lower this time. “I have your assignments for the next few days, and I know it looks like a lot, but we’re going to take each class one section at a time, okay? This might be easier for you than real school. A lot of my students say they like it better this way. Yes?”

Awsten nodded. 

“Okay. Is there a certain subject you’d like to start with?”

Awsten shook his head. The morning was off to a bit of a rocky start, and all Awsten could really think about was how much he missed Otto. Plus, he should have been in Mr. W’s class right then, somewhere he would much rather be than here. 

“Okay, well,” Brendon said, sifting through the stack, “I usually have students here save English for quiet time because it’s often a lot of reading, which you can do on your own.”

Awsten watched carefully as he set a paperback copy of The Five People You Meet In Heaven off to the side. 

“I see you have physics and math; do you enjoy either of those?” 

Awsten reluctantly shook his head. 

“That’s okay,” Brendon assured. “What else… Oh, here’s history. Shall we start here?” 

“Sure,” Awsten said quietly. 

“Great!” Brendon reached inside the cover of the history book for a sheet of paper. Awsten recognized the handwriting on it as Mrs. Anderson’s. He’d seen it before on the white board - and on countless detention slips. 

He caught _Please be patient with him,_ on the top of the paper before Brendon folded the corner over it, and he sank a little in his chair. The sentiment had been nice enough, but it was a warning to Brendon that Awsten was a problem. 

He’d wanted this to be a fresh start.

“Let’s see,” Brendon continued brightly, as though nothing had happened. “Chapter twenty-four.” He removed the history book from the pile and slid it to Awsten. “Why don’t you go ahead and skim that chapter while I start with Travis, and then I’ll show you what she wants you to do?” 

“Kay,” Awsten murmured. He opened the book and flipped back to the chapter while Brendon began talking to Travis about algebra.

One cool thing about working with Brendon was that Awsten managed to knock out all of his history work for two entire weeks in the span of about three hours. He wouldn’t have to think about it again until April. Another cool thing was that - and Awsten learned this very quickly - Brendon was kind of insane. He threw his head back when he laughed, and he laughed often. He commanded the room, however small. And he was bright and full of excitement. You’d think Awsten had been nominated for a Grammy or something with how excited Brendon had gotten when Awsten put his pencil down and declared his quiz finished. The weirdest part was that it seemed genuine.

Awsten kind of liked it. 

And while he was glad to stop working on school stuff, he did feel a little sad when it came time for Brendon to leave. 

“Goodbye, my angels!” Brendon crowed, squeezing Awsten and Travis each into an arm for a hug. “Have a wonderful day! I shall see you tomorrow!” 

“He’s crazy,” Jawn noted, walking over to Awsten once Brendon and Ryan had left the room. 

Awsten shrugged. “I like him.” 

“I like him, too. He’s just. Crazy.” 

There wasn’t time for anything else to be said before Lucas came rushing in. “Alright, is everybody ready? Let’s go. We’ll be late if we don’t leave right now.”

“I’m hungry,” Travis whined.

“I know. I put some snacks in the van.” 

The snacks turned out to be those little round crackers with either cheese or peanut butter squashed between them. Awsten didn’t think they tasted particularly like cheese _or_ peanut butter, but he didn’t complain. After growing up in a house that rarely had food inside, he knew that any snack was better than no snack at all. 

The boys were mostly quiet on the way, and once they had parked at the church, they piled out and headed straight for the entrance. 

“We’re going to the offices upstairs,” Lucas said. 

Awsten hung a few feet back behind the group, so Lucas caught up to him.

“You alright?” 

Awsten nodded, and for once, it wasn’t a lie. 

“When we’re done here, you can get some rest at home.” 

Awsten nodded again. Lucas tried to fall into step beside him, but Awsten quickly darted away and caught up with the other boys. 

“Okay,” Lucas said, clearly not deterred. 

They stopped around some supplies outside a locked door. Atop a paint can was a hurriedly scrawled note, and Lucas bent down to pick it up. He scanned it and then read it aloud to the group.

 

 _Yo -_  
_Something came up and I had to run. Not sure when I’ll be back. Everything should be here but please call Big T if you need anything else. Lunches are in the fridge 4 you. Labeled and everything. Thank you again from the bottom of my heart, you guys are lifesavers. Your all getting the biggest hugs tomorrow._  
_In Him,_  
_JB_

 

“Alright, then,” Lucas hummed. “Grab something and let’s head over.” 

Awsten took a paint can in each hand and followed the rest of the group to a bare room with a ladder, several newspapers laid out on the floor, and multiple rolls of bright blue tape. 

“How are we going to do this?” Ashton asked, pushing his bandana up to the crown of his head. 

Lucas motioned for all the boys to set their things down in the center of the room. “Let’s assess.” 

Before Awsten knew it, the jobs were divided up, and the work began. Soon after, half the room had been painted. It moved quickly, so it didn’t feel that late when lunchtime had rolled around. Awsten found himself seated on the tile floor in the hallway with Jawn, munching on a turkey and cheese sandwich from a brown paper bag. 

“What did it mean in the note,” Awsten asked, “‘tomorrow’? Are we not going to be done?”

“Oh, no, no. Jon, the guy who wrote the note? He leads the youth group, so he’s in charge of bible study.”

“And we go to that?”

“Mmhmm.”

Awsten made a face.

“Hey, it’s not that bad. It’s only, like, an hour. And there’s pizza, which means we don’t have to make dinner.” 

“I’m just… not really religious,” Awsten shrugged. 

“Yeah.” 

“Are you?”

“I guess,” Jawn nodded. “I was raised Catholic.”

“What about Ashton and Travis?” 

Jawn shook his head. “Ash is, I guess, but he doesn't really talk about it. And Travis... I don’t know, dude. When he first came here, he was _super_ religious. But now… I don’t know. I never know what’s going on in that guy’s head.” He dug around his paper bag, sifting past the fruit cup and the two-pack of Oreos in search of a bag of chips. “I got Fritos,” he sighed. “What’d you get?” 

“Lays,” Awsten answered without looking. 

“You wanna trade?”

Awsten glanced at the Fritos. “Sure.” He didn’t think he was going to eat the Lays anyway. 

Jawn swapped the chips out. 

“It’s smaller than I thought,” Awsten noted, looking around the church. “This is more like a… a store than a church.” 

“Yeah,” Jawn mused. “I think it used to be. And there's no big sanctuary or confessional or anything. It’s always been like this here - kind of a hipster church. It’s cool, I was just… _Ei!_ ”

Awsten’s head snapped up as Jawn yelled.

“E aí, cara?” Jawn grinned, putting down his lunch and getting to his feet.

Awsten followed his eyes down the hallway just in time to see a little boy gasp, his eyes going wide. “Jawn!” He flew down the hall to jump into the older boy’s arms.

“Oi, amiguinho,” Jawn laughed, lifting him off the ground.

“O que faz aqui?” the little boy chirped.

Jawn opened his mouth to reply, but before he could speak, a woman’s sharp voice interrupted him.

_“Luis!”_

Jawn squeezed him tighter and then let him go. “Desculpe,” Jawn called to the woman, who was giving him a stern look. 

“Tchau!” the boy - Luis, Awsten supposed - whispered over his shoulder before darting back down the hall. 

“Tchau,” Jawn echoed softly as he watched him go. 

“Who was that?” Awsten asked. 

“That’s my little buddy Luis,” Jawn explained a little sheepishly as he took his seat again. “He just turned six. We volunteered in the Sunday School a couple times when they needed help, and he was attached to me the whole time. I couldn’t just let him walk by without saying hi.” 

“What’s he doing here now?”

Jawn chuckled in amusement. “That’s what he just asked me. ‘O que faz aqui’ means ‘why are you here.’ But, uh, he goes to the little kindergarten they run upstairs.”

“Oh,” Awsten nodded. “So… you’re bilingual?”

“Uh-huh.” 

“Is it Spanish?” 

“O português,” Jawn corrected.

“Oh.” 

“I don’t remember as much as I used to,” Jawn admitted, pulling the chips open and popping one into his mouth.

“Hmm,” Awsten muttered. “Did you learn it at school?” 

“Uh, no. My - my house,” Jawn offered, but he looked away as he spoke. 

“Are you American?” 

Jawn snorted an offended laugh. “Yes, you _ass._ Second generation.” 

Awsten shrugged even though Jawn couldn’t see him. “Just wondering.” 

Quiet fell between them, and they didn’t speak until the other boys came out to join them.

 

* * *

** Peace and Purpose Home for Young Men  
March 11, 3:29 PM **

“Alright. I know you’re tired,” Lucas acknowledged as he let the boys in the back door, “but at least _try_ to get some homework done, please.” 

All Awsten wanted to do was take a hot shower and then a long nap. His skin and clothes smelled of paint, his hair was a mess, and his arms were tired from nearly four hours of rolling color onto walls, but he reminded himself of his goal - not to get in trouble - so he filed into the homework room with the rest of the boys. Jawn and Ashton headed upstairs with their books, but Travis plopped into his chair at the table. 

“Hey, Travis?” Awsten asked.

“Uh-huh?” he asked, looking up.

“Is it cool if I hang out in here with you? I won’t bother you or anything. I promise. It's just - I’ll fall asleep if I go upstairs, and Lucas said to do some work, so...”

“You… you wanna hang out with me?” Travis asked softly, his eyes wide.

Awsten couldn’t stop a small smile from forming on his face. “Yeah, man. Of course.” 

“Okay!” Travis replied. He was positively beaming.

Awsten chuckled and slid into the same chair from the morning. 

“What are you gonna work on?” Travis asked eagerly.

“I haven’t decided,” Awsten confessed. “What about you?”

“English. I like reading.” He sat up a little straighter. “I’m a good reader.” 

“I bet,” Awsten agreed, although he’d had no idea about that. “Maybe I’ll do that, too.” He remembered Brendon saying that was a good thing to do independently, after all. 

Awsten reached for the small copy of The Five People You Meet In Heaven, which was on top of the rest of his school books. Inside the front was a paper with a short list of assignments, and after a moment of studying the green outline, it dawned on Awsten that Mr. W had handwritten it himself. Beneath the outline was a paragraph. It was handwritten as well in that familiar green pen.

 

 _Hello._  
_  
I’m not exactly sure how to do this since my class is largely discussion-based. Awsten is very bright and will do well so long as he engages with the material._

_Please encourage him to stay on top of the reading and talk about the book with you. If you haven’t read it, I ask that you skim the chapters enough that you can ask him questions about it. He may request that you read it to him (although he can be a bit shy at times, so maybe he won’t). He does love listening to stories, so if time permits, that would most likely be the best way for him to process the information. I understand if this is not possible, though._

_The only other things I ask of you are to keep in mind that I don’t think he’s had much exposure to novels like this, and, in addition, please note that he has recently lived through a situation that may make the subject matter more personally challenging. Still, I wouldn’t have sent the book if I didn’t think he could handle it._

_So long as he reads the chapters, the quizzes and the final test should be easy; he knows this. I have great confidence in him._

_I miss him very much already. Please take good care of him._

_Sincerely,  
_ _G. Wigington_

 

Awsten swallowed and pressed the paper to his chest. He closed his eyes for a moment, allowing himself a few seconds to relish in the feeling, whatever it was. Then he set the paper face down on the table and opened the book, searching for the place he’d left off. He knew he was likely supposed to have read something over the break, but he wasn’t sure how much. Besides, based on his mental state, he couldn’t have cracked open the book and read even if Mr. W had been sitting with him, encouraging him to do it. That week had been rough.

Just as Awsten got to the correct page, a piece of paper fluttered out of the book and onto his lap.

Travis glanced over for a moment, just long enough to see what the slight noise had been, but then he went back to his own story.

Awsten quickly picked up the paper and looked at it.

 

_Awsten,_

_Hello. I hope you’re well, given the circumstances. We are all thinking of you._

_Please proceed with this book carefully. I know that you have had a close brush with the subject matter this past week, and I encourage you to take a moment to read the note from the author at the front before you go any further. Some of the students in your class mentioned finding the story to be a comfort to them after what took place on campus on the 5th, and I think that may turn out to be true for you as well, though I know you had an incredibly different experience than they did. If the novel proves to be too much, let me know, and I will be happy to discuss some alternatives with you._

_With all of that being said, I would like to remind you that am here should you need anything - for class or otherwise. You are more than welcome to call or email me if you want to talk. I can’t promise to have effective advice or any wisdom to share, but I do promise to listen. Please remember that you have many people that care about you (myself included) and that you are not alone._

_Mr. W_

_“Courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear - not absence of fear.”  
— Mark Twain _

 

Awsten scanned the note again and then slipped it back between the pages. Encouraged, he found his place in the book and began to read.

 

* * *

** Peace and Purpose Home for Young Men - Jawn and Awsten's Room  
March 11, 9:41 PM **

“You never told me what you’re here for,” Jawn said into the darkness that night.

“Oh,” Awsten replied softly. He stared up at the ceiling.

“Are you going to?”

“Are you gonna tell me what _you’re_ here for?” Awsten asked sarcastically.

“My parents died in a car accident,” Jawn replied flatly. 

Awsten blinked. He hadn’t been expecting - or even wanting - Jawn to say anything. “Shit, dude, I’m sorry," he said sincerely. "I’m - that’s awful.” 

“Yeah. So what happened to you?”

Awsten swallowed. 

“It’s not like I’m not gonna find out anyway.”

“My parents hit me,” Awsten muttered with a sigh, “and I was living with a foster family. Then I was involved in a school shooting last week.”

Jawn sat up in bed. “What? Wait, _what_?” 

Awsten looked over at him tiredly. “I didn’t hurt anybody. But I almost got killed, so.” 

“Fuck. You said you went to Lakeview, right?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Fuck,” he said again. “That’s, like. Right here.” 

“I know. It’s my school. It’s somebody I knew.” 

“What’s his name? It - I mean, it was a guy, right?”

“Yeah. Um, his name was Michael Howard.” 

Jawn shook his head. “I don’t know him.”

“Well, that’s good. He’s dead now.” 

Jawn swallowed and laid back down in bed. “That’s why Brendon said the thing about loud noises this morning,” he realized.

“Yeah.” 

“How… how many people died?” Jawn asked.

“Just Michael. He killed himself.” 

“That’s… good, I guess,” Jawn said hesitantly. 

“Yeah,” Awsten repeated. “Just sucks that he did it two feet in front of me.” 

Jawn took a sharp breath in.

“I had my hand on the gun when he pulled the trigger.” 


	10. Glow

**Peace and Purpose Home for Young Men - Dining Room  
March 12, 7:17 AM**

“Um, hi, God… I know we haven’t talked in a while, but it’s my turn to say grace, so, um. I hope this is okay. I’m glad that Lucas put this house together and gave us a safe place to go to when bad things happen. And thanks for giving me Jawn as my roommate, cause he seems cool, and also thanks for Ashton being so nice and Travis letting me hang out with him yesterday.” Awsten shifted in his seat and squeezed his eyes shut tighter. “Thanks for the Woods, and Mr. W, and blink-182. And thanks for Zakk buying a waffle iron, cause I think waffles are my favorite breakfast thing.” He looked up at Lucas. “Okay, I’m done.” 

_Amen_ , Lucas mouthed to him.

“Oh, duh,” he muttered under his breath. Switching back to his normal volume, he concluded, “Amen.”

“Amen,” the table chorused. 

When Awsten glanced at Jawn, Jawn was smiling at him. Actually - so was everyone. Awsten felt his cheeks heating up, so he ducked his head down and busied himself with pouring syrup on his plate. 

The table was quiet, just clinks of forks and knives against plates. Awsten realized after a moment that Travis was cutting his waffle along the lines from the iron. Along _every_ line from the iron. Holy shit. Everyone was half-watching him as they ate. Travis wasn’t eating, though; he was just sawing incessantly. Pretty soon, no one else was eating, either, and Travis’ plate was filled with what looked like a hundred little waffle squares. 

Once Travis was sure that he’d cut all of them, he moved the edge pieces to the rim of his plate and began picking up the full squares one at a time and using his fingers to pop them into his mouth. He was so absorbed in what he was doing that he didn’t seem to have any inkling of the fact that not only was no one in the room speaking, but they were all staring at him, too.

Finally, Lucas tore his gaze away and cleared his throat. “Um, did any of you gentlemen have interesting dreams last night?” 

 

* * *

  
**Peace and Purpose Home for Young Men - School Room**  
**March 12, 10:10 AM**

Check-ins and goal setting seemed to pass much more quickly the second time around, and the only “activity” of note that day was Bible study, which wouldn’t be taking place until dinnertime.

The boys were dismissed to the basketball hoop in the driveway to play while they waited for the tutors, and soon it was time for school. Once they’d settled in and about two hours had passed, Awsten began to hear Jawn asking Ryan an awful lot of questions about centripetal and centrifugal forces. But Ryan sounded glad; it seemed as though Jawn had been working hard, and Ryan could definitely tell. Once Jawn’s confusion seemed to be cleared up, Ryan started to give him an oral mini-quiz.

“Velocity is a…?” Ryan asked.

“Vector.”

“And acceleration is…”

“The… rate of change of the… velocity?”

“Right. So if the velocity is changing, the object must be…”

“Accelerating.”

“Perfect.” Then Ryan prompted, “F equals mr times-”

“Two pi over T,” Jawn finished.

“Two pi over T…?”

Jawn sighed exasperatedly. “Squared.”

“Right, good!”

“Fuck!”  
  
At the loud swear word, Awsten glanced up. He was just in time to see Travis’ eyes snap away from his history essay to gape at the back of Jawn’s head.

“It’s okay; you've got this,” Ryan assured him calmly.

“No, I don’t,” Jawn spat. “I’m gonna forget, and then I’m gonna fail.”

“Jawn, don’t sell yourself short. You’ve been working so hard, and you’re doing a great job.”

“Not hard enough, apparently.” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “I’m a fucking idiot.”

“No, you’re not. Don’t say that. It’s one mistake, man - it’s okay.”

He scoffed. “It’s one mistake that gives me the wrong answer, so it’s really not.” 

“You still have an entire day, and you _know_ this stuff,” Ryan encouraged. “We can go over it again. Let’s try again, and-”

“No! Just stop!” Jawn shoved his chair back and angrily stood up. 

The room had fallen completely silent, and everyone had turned to stare. 

“Just stop,” Jawn repeated, laughing dryly. “It’s hopeless. You can’t help me, Ryan.” He paused before he went through the door. “Nobody can.” 

And then he was gone.

Awsten watched as Ryan and Brendon traded a worried glance. Ryan got to his feet, and he looked down to tell Ashton to keep working, but before he could speak, Ashton gave him a small smile. 

“I got it. Don’t worry.”

Ryan nodded and slipped outside after Jawn. Within a handful of seconds, he was back, though. Apparently, Lucas had heard the commotion and had come out of the office to see what was happening. Things had quieted down for a few moments, and Awsten had _just_ been able to relax and start focusing again when there was a burst of noise from outside. 

“No, you don’t understand!” Jawn yelled. 

Lucas responded softly, but Jawn must have said something or done something, because suddenly there was a bit of a scuffle, and then Lucas shouted, “ZAKK!” 

Two pairs of footsteps raced up the stairs, and a door slammed.

Awsten felt incredibly uneasy. If Jawn had snapped, he could do something like Michael had. Like Awsten’s father had. He could - he could do _anything_. Awsten may have been sleeping in the same room he was, but he didn’t know Jawn at all, which meant he couldn’t predict the damage. That was the scariest thought of all. 

Awsten slid down from his chair to the floor so he could find refuge under the table. 

Travis’ head poked curiously into the space, and Brendon ducked down, too, his eyebrows creased in concern. “Awsten? You okay, hon?” 

Awsten nodded at the carpet, and then he looked up at Brendon, but when he looked in Brendon’s worried eyes, he found that he couldn’t lie. He shook his head.

“What’s wrong?”

He shook his head again. 

“Can I come sit with you?” Brendon asked carefully.

Awsten nodded. 

“Thanks.” Brendon settled beside him on the ground, drawing his legs up to match Awsten’s. 

“Can I come too?” Travis asked.

Awsten nodded again and motioned to the carpet on his other side. Travis crawled across the ground to sit beside him. Truthfully, Awsten felt a little better knowing that there were people on either side of him. 

“Are ya scared?” Travis asked. “Is that why you’re down here?”

Awsten hesitated and then nodded. 

“Of what just happened with Jawn?” Brendon checked.

Awsten nodded again.

“Oh,” Travis chuckled. “Well, it’s okay. He just gets real worked up sometimes.” 

Across the room, Ashton abandoned his work and came to crouch in front of Awsten. He set one of his hands on Awsten’s knee. “Travis is right,” Ashton said comfortingly. “It’ll blow over in a little bit.”

“Why are they yelling?” Awsten quietly asked. 

Ashton slipped under the table so he could sit on Travis’ left. “Well, Jawn’s frustrated, and Lucas needed Zakk to help.”

“Why?”

“Why did he need Zakk?” Ashton rephrased.

Awsten nodded.

Ashton didn’t reply; he grimaced instead. 

Awsten gave him a confused look.

_“I said NO!”_ came Jawn’s voice from upstairs, and Awsten flinched. He pressed harder against the wall.

“It’ll stop soon,” Brendon said. He wrapped an arm behind Awsten’s shoulders and briskly rubbed his arm. “It’s okay, babe. It’s okay.” 

Awsten buried his face in his knees. He needed Otto very badly in that moment, and his stomach twisted knowing that there was no one that could go get him and bring him to Awsten. If he could just get to the phone in the office, he’d be able to hear Otto’s voice… but there was no way he was leaving this room. All he could think of was his own parents screaming at each other, breaking things, hurting him…

“Shh, it’s okay,” Brendon soothed, and Awsten thought the gentle shushing was a bit odd, because no one had made any sound. “Breathe…”

Something banged upstairs, maybe a drawer, and Awsten jumped again. He turned his face into Brendon’s shirt. 

“Shh, shh… it’s okay, Awsten. You’re okay, honey.”

“Jawn won’t hurt us,” Ashton added softly. “It’s not any of us that he’s mad at. He just gets frustrated at himself. He won’t do anything to you.”

“He’s never come after you guys?” Awsten asked anxiously. 

“No, never,” Ashton assured.

Travis shook his head in agreement.

Awsten nodded, biting on his bottom lip. 

“Do you want to go back to your chair?” Brendon asked hopefully, but Awsten reluctantly shook his head. “Hmm. How can we make you feel better?”

“Can’t,” he whispered. 

“Well, can we still try?” Brendon pushed.

“I…” He swallowed. “Well, there _is_ one thing…”

Within seconds, Brendon had the ragged copy of The Five People You Meet In Heaven tucked in his hand, and he slipped back under the table to sit on the floor beside Awsten. He began to read from the page that Awsten had marked with Mr. W's note.

 

_"But now I gotta pay," he said._

_"To pay?"_

_"For my sin. That's why I'm here, right? Justice?"_

_The Blue Man smiled. "No, Edward. You are here so I can teach you something. All the people you meet here have one thing to teach you."_

_Eddie was skeptical. His fists stayed clenched. "What?" he said._

_"That there are no random acts. That we are all connected. That you can no more separate one life from another than you can separate a breeze from the wind."_

_Eddie shook his head. "We were throwing a ball. It was my stupidity, running out there like that. Why should you have to die on account of me? It ain't fair."_

_The Blue Man held out his hand. "Fairness," he said, "does not govern life and death. If it did, no good person would ever die young."_

 

Brendon was a good reader. A great reader, really. But Awsten couldn’t help but wish it was Mr. W’s gentle voice telling the story. Brendon performed the book, and it made Awsten feel like he was seeing it like a movie. Mr. W, on the other hand, read the words from the pages as if he’d lived the story out in his soul.

Still, as Brendon read, just as when Mr. W had read, Awsten was able to descend fully into the story. Travis leaned against Awsten’s arm, and Awsten let him. He stared blankly at the wall across the room as he listened. Ashton and Ryan were listening, too.

Ten full minutes passed with just the sound of Brendon’s voice in Awsten’s ears.

 

_Instantly, Eddie felt everything the Blue Man had felt in his life rushing into him, swimming in his body, the loneliness, the shame, the nervousness, the heart attack. It slid into Eddie like a drawer being closed._

_"I am leaving," the Blue Man whispered in his ear. "This step of heaven is over for me. But there are others for you to meet."_

_"Wait," Eddie said, pulling back. "Just tell me one thing. Did I save the little girl? At the pier. Did I save her?"_

_The Blue Man did not answer._

_Eddie slumped. "Then my death was a waste, just like my life."_

_"No life is a waste," the Blue Man said. "The only time we waste is the time we spend thinking we are alone."_

_He stepped back toward the-_

 

A gentle knock came on the school room door, and Awsten jumped so hard that he was suddenly able to hear his heartbeat in his ears. The door opened, and Awsten held his breath.

“Hey, guys,” Zakk greeted softly, but he stopped short at the sight of all three of the boys under the table with Brendon.“What, um… what are you guys doing down there?”

“Awsten got scared,” Travis announced, “so we was keeping him comp’ny.”

“Oh, I see,” Zakk nodded. 

“Is everything alright with Jawn?” Ryan asked quietly, standing and crossing over to where Zakk was standing. “I’m so sorry - he made _one_ mistake. I didn’t even get upset with him or anything, I swear to god. I tried to tell him we could do it again, but he didn’t listen, and he just-”

“No, it’s fine,” Zakk promised. “He’s fine. He’s fine.” He rubbed his palms on the sides of his jeans and said to both of the tutors, “Lucas asked me to take the kids out. I know we’re ending pretty early, but I’m gonna take the boys on a walk, so if you guys wanna dip out a little early…”

“I don't mind staying,” Brendon responded honestly. 

“Can I stay with Brendon?” Awsten asked.

“Me, too,” Travis added. “I wanna hear more story.”

Zakk smiled tightly. “I’m afraid not, guys. But I was thinking we could walk to the park.”

Travis gasped. “Can we get ice cream?!” 

“It’s not even lunchtime,” Ashton chuckled.

Travis stuck his tongue out at Ashton, which earned a sharp, “Travis, _no_ ,” from Zakk. Travis pulled his tongue back into his mouth and frowned, grumbling to himself under his breath.

“I grabbed all of your shoes; they’re by the back door. Go put them on, please. Quietly.”

“Is he sleeping?” Ashton wondered.

“No, but he’s on the phone.” 

“Patrick?” Ashton asked knowingly.

“Just go get your shoes, please, guys,” Zakk sighed. “You can all process it with Lucas later.”

Ashton and Travis headed out to get their sneakers, and Brendon climbed out from underneath the table. He tucked his black fountain pen into his breast pocket and began gathering his papers together.

“Aws, you okay?” Zakk asked. He crouched down so he could be at Awsten’s eye level.

“Is Jawn coming downstairs?” Awsten asked softly, avoiding the question.

“Not right now, no. Travis said you were scared?” 

Awsten swallowed.

“What scared you?”

“Th… the yelling.” 

“Why?” 

“I want to stay here,” Awsten whispered, avoiding that inquiry, too. 

“You’ll feel better when we go outside. I promise.” He stuck a hand out for Awsten, but Awsten leaned away. Zakk sighed again, softer this time. “Come on, man. We’ve gotta go. The sun’s out, and it’s warm, okay? It’ll be fine.”

“Hey, Awsten?” Brendon tried, squatting down beside Zakk. His eyes were bigger and kinder than Awsten had been expecting. “I know you’re not feeling that great right now, but it would be a big help for Zakk and Lucas if you got up. Maybe… Maybe Zakk will let you bring your book, and you can read some more when you guys get to the park,” he said slowly, looking at Zakk for confirmation.

“I think that’s a great idea,” Zakk nodded. 

“Okay?” Brendon asked Awsten.

“It’s safe outside?”

Zakk nodded. “Of course. We don’t even have to cross a street.”

“No, I mean…” He pointed toward the entry of the house. “Outside the school room?”

“Totally safe,” Brendon confirmed. “Come on, my little gumdrop.” He reached in for Awsten’s hands just as Zakk had done a moment before, but this time, Awsten let Brendon take them. Together, Zakk and Brendon pulled Awsten to his feet, and Awsten flashed back to two days before when Mr. W had helped him to his feet at the lake. 

He missed the lake.

Brendon transferred the paperback into Awsten’s grip. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, a slight smile on his face. 

Awsten nodded. If he felt normal, he would have bumped his shoulder, or grinned, or, at the very least, said something back, but he was back in survival mode, and at the moment, a small nod was the best he could do. Brendon seemed like the type of person who would understand.

Awsten walked with Zakk to the back door, where he tugged his tennis shoes over his socks. He squeezed the spine of the book in his hand and followed the other boys out the back door and into the sun. As soon as the door shut behind him, he drew a big breath of fresh air into his lungs. 

“You alright, mate?” Ashton asked.

Awsten nodded and tried to force a smile. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.” 

As the boys walked, Awsten ran the tips of his fingers over the cover of the book, tracing the letters in the title over and over. The trip was longer than Awsten expected. The destination seemed to be an expanse of grass, and in the middle of it was a medium-sized playground. It was empty, of course, because school was in session. 

Travis ran right to the steps and flew up them. “Awsten, come on!” he called, but Awsten just watched from a distance as Travis rocketed through a little green tunnel and across the equipment to the tallest slide, which he zoomed down. He had a big smile on his face when he jumped up at the bottom. “Come on!” he cried again.

Awsten didn’t think he’d been to a playground at all since the end of fifth grade. He didn't want Travis to have to play by himself. And after all, it did look kind of fun… He set his book down with Ashton, who had taken a seat on a bench with Zakk. 

“You gonna do it?” Zakk asked encouragingly. 

Awsten nodded. 

“Great!”

“Go Awsten!” Ashton cheered. 

An embarrassed smile made its way onto Awsten’s face, but he walked up the small steps to where Travis was standing at the top, literally bouncing with excitement. 

“It’s a good one,” Travis promised him. “It’s a real good slide.” 

“It looks nice,” Awsten agreed. 

“I’ll go first,” Travis said, “and then you go after me!” 

“Okay.” 

Travis rushed through the green tunnel again, and Awsten ducked in after him, following at a more natural pace. Before he emerged from the other side, he noticed the way that warmth got trapped in the tight space. He trailed Travis up a smaller set of steps to the slide, and by the time Awsten got to the top, Travis was already waving up at him from the wood chips.

Awsten sat down on the bright yellow plastic, and he ran his hands over the railings. 

“Ready, steady, go!” Travis cried excitedly. 

Awsten pushed off, and he couldn’t help but smile as he flew down just as fast as Travis had. The slight wind lifted his hair off his forehead, and he swiped his fingers through it when he stopped moving. 

On the bench, Ashton and Zakk clapped. Awsten laughed and gave them a dramatic bow once he got to his feet.

“Again!” Travis cried. 

“Maybe in a little bit,” Awsten told him.

“Why?” he pouted.

Awsten pointed several feet away. “I wanna go on the swings.”

“Oh, okay,” Travis nodded, and he disappeared to go run his little course again. 

Awsten crossed the playground to the swing set. There were two baby swings and four normal swings, and Awsten chose one of the normal ones in the middle. He used the tips of his toes to sway back and forth a few times. 

“Can I join you?” came a voice, and Awsten looked up to see Ashton standing at the swing beside Awsten’s with his hand on one of the chains. 

“Sure,” Awsten said with a smile. 

“Cool.” 

Ashton sat down beside him and pushed off, but Awsten stayed close to the ground. 

“So, do you wanna talk about it?” Ashton asked as he swung.

“About what?”

“This morning… Jawn… You hiding under the table…” 

“No.” 

“Okay.”

There were several seconds of quiet. Awsten kept going forward and backward, forward and backward, not taking his feet off the ground. 

“Do you want me to tell you what’s probably happening at the house right now?” 

“…yeah.”

“So, Jawn probably said something stupid, which is why Lucas chased him upstairs and yelled for Zakk to come help.”

“Something stupid?” Awsten echoed.

“Yeah. Something… threatening?” At the look on Awsten’s face, Ashton quickly assured, “But he won’t hurt anybody. Don’t worry. Once Jawn’s initial freak-out was over, that’s when Lucas probably made the call to Patrick - that’s Jawn’s therapist. For a long time when Jawn first got here, Patrick was the only one that could get Jawn to calm down.” He shook his head, remembering. “There were a _lot_ of phone calls to Patrick. But Jawn’s really come around. He figured out he can trust Lucas now. And he’s on meds, which help.” 

“Yeah, I see them at breakfast. Paxil?”

Ashton nodded. “Anti-depressants.” 

“Jawn’s depressed?” 

“I don’t know. We’ve never really talked about it,” Ashton shrugged, “but he had a rough go of things before he came here.”

“Yeah, he kinda told me,” Awsten murmured.

“Why are _you_ here?” Ashton asked curiously. 

“Um…” _Ugh, not this again._ “I don’t really…”

“It’s okay - you don’t have to tell me. Some people just like to.” 

“I’m… it’s only been a couple days since it happened, so.” 

“I understand.” 

And as suddenly as the words left his mouth, Awsten realized - today was Wednesday. It was _Wednesday_. An entire week had passed since… since… He swallowed and willed himself to stay calm. 

It only felt like a day since the SWAT Team had wrenched a panicked Awsten back from Michael’s lifeless body, but at the same time, it felt like a million years. 

“I…” Awsten began, his voice a little too loud. He cleared his throat and forced out, “What are we having for lunch?”

“Ummm, turkey wraps, I think.” 

“Turkey wraps,” Awsten mindlessly repeated.

“Yeah. Do you like those?”

“Uh-huh.”

“That’s good, cause Travis doesn’t. He opens them right on up and pulls everything apart, so there’s soggy lettuce everywhere, and he gets mayonnaise all over his fingers, and it’s a huge mess.” 

“What’s his deal?” Awsten asked, lifting his eyes from the ground to find Travis still running around the playground equipment like a little kid. 

“I don’t know,” Ashton replied softly. “He’s never outright said. I don’t know if he even knows.”

“What?”

“Well, we don’t do group therapy here, so it’s not like everyone’s telling all their dark secrets and their diagnoses.”

“No, no, I mean - what the fuck was he talking about yesterday about a shed?”

“Oh,” Ashton said grimly. “Yeah. He, um. His family started keeping him in a shed when he was, like, three. They never let him out. One of his older sisters smuggled books and stuff to him, and she’d play with him sometimes, but yeah. His entire existence was, like, a family secret. Til somebody on the outside caught word of it, I reckon, and the police came and got him, and… it was this whole big thing. On the news and everything.” 

“Why would they do that to him? Lock him up like that?”

“Cause he’s different, I guess.” 

Hesitantly, Awsten supplied, “Special.”

Ashton nodded.

“That’s not fair. It’s not his fault.” 

“I know. When he first came here, he had really wicked Stockholm syndrome because he’d never known anything else. We had to tell him over and over that what happened to him was messed up. I could never remember what Stockholm syndrome even was until I met him. You know, somebody would mention it, and I’d be like, ‘oh, I’ve heard of that before, but what does it mean again?’ But now I know.” He shook his head. “I’ll never forget.”

“You’ve been here a long time, then,” Awsten realized. “Longer than Jawn _and_ Travis.”

“Yeah. Like… a year and a half?” 

“Whoa,” Awsten muttered before he could stop himself.

“Yeah,” he said, smiling emptily and ducking his head. “It’s… it’s really, really nice of Lucas to let me stay. He told me I could, but I didn’t really believe him. But um, I was here, and then eventually Travis came, and then Jawn. There was this other guy here as long as I was… he came a week or two before I did, but he was a lot older. Calum. He was actually Jawn’s old roommate. Has Jawn mentioned him?”

“Uh, yeah, I think so. Just, like, for a second, though.”

“Calum was basically like Lucas’ little brother. He was fun, and he laughed a lot. He had some issues though.” Ashton snorted quietly at his own word choice. “I mean, we all do, but he was… hard to control. He had always been in and out of juvie, so when he first came to the house, he spent a lot of time breaking rules for entertainment and starting pointless arguments to get a rise out of the other lads. That kind of thing. But somehow, after a while, Lucas got through to him, and it mostly just… stopped. I mean, some stuff still went on, like how he’d make sure everyone knew he was, like, the alpha dog among the guys, and how he’d always jerk off in the shower for like twenty minutes so we had to have a time limit on our showers-”

Awsten let out a burst of laughter. “What?! Jawn told me about the time thing, but he didn’t say that was why!” 

Ashton groaned. “Yeah, it was awful. We could hear him, too, every day. Sometimes more than once.”

Awsten laughed again at the terrible mental image. 

“So we were limited to one shower a day - but nobody else ever tried to take two, of course - and we had eight minutes. Lucas said he didn’t want us to feel like we had to rush, but he also needed Calum to stop doing that. Of course, he didn’t.”

Awsten dissolved into more peals of laughter. 

“I’m glad you think it’s funny, because it definitely sucked to live it,” Ashton chuckled.

“I just can’t even imagine!” 

“I mean, once you’re here for a while, you've gotta do what you've gotta do.” 

“No, but like, being so obvious about it? That’s crazy! It’s not like there aren’t people like three feet away from you!”

“Exactly.”

“So why did he leave? Cause of that?” 

Ashton scoffed amusedly. “No. He just aged out.”

“Oh.” 

“We had a big 18th birthday party for him, and Lucas actually let him stay an extra day, but… The dynamic is better without him here, honestly, although I do still sort of miss him. He was a good mate to me once he calmed down. Though I guess it’s only been a few days since he left, so maybe I’m just used to him and I don’t actually wish he was here. It’s not so tense anymore, and I don’t feel like Lucas is playing favorites.” He smiled at Awsten. “I can also already tell that you’re much nicer.” 

“Awsten!” Travis yelled from across the playground.

Awsten raised his voice so Travis would be able to hear him. “Yeah?” 

“Come slide with me!” 

“Just a minute!” 

Travis smiled excitedly. “Okay!” 

“See?” Ashton said, nodding towards Travis. “Way nicer. Cal used to make fun of Travis all the time.” 

Awsten raised his eyebrows.

“He was kind of a jerk.”

“So why did Lucas like him so much, then?”

“I don’t know. But one of Lucas’ gifts is that he can see past all our BS.” Ashton shook his head and advised, “Don’t even try to lie to him, man. Just tell him the truth. Cause whatever it is… he’ll figure it out.”

“I don’t really have anything to hide.”

“Everybody has something to hide.” 

“Awsten!” Travis called again.

“You cool if I go?” Awsten asked Ashton.

“Yeah. He’s just gonna keep bugging you if you don’t.”

“He’s not bugging me,” Awsten replied honestly. 

“I see why he likes you,” Ashton smiled. “Last night after lights out, he was talking about how cool you are. And not just cause of your hair. He said something like, ‘he’s the coolest person I ever done met’ or something. You know how he talks.”

“AWSTEN!”

Awsten laughed. “Okay, okay, I’m coming!” he called. He got up from his swing and jogged across to where Travis was waiting for him. 

“Come on, let’s do the slide again!”

“Alright. I’m guessing you wanna go first?” 

“Yeah!” Travis replied happily. “And then I wait at the bottom for you, and then we do it again.”

“Okay.” 

“Okay!”

 

* * *

 

**Peace & Purpose Home for Young Men - Kitchen**  
**March 12, 12:25 PM**

Lucas had a finger pressed over his lips as he opened the back door for Zakk and the three boys. In a hushed voice, he told them, “Jawn is resting upstairs. We’re going to go ahead and make lunch without him.” 

“Is he okay?” Ashton asked.

“He is, yes. Jobs are on the fridge. Zakk, can you take over Jawn’s, please?”

“Sure.”

“Perfect. Then we’re good to go.” 

Rolling the wraps and slicing up red apples was easily the fastest lunch preparation Awsten had seen at the house. The whole thing was done in four or five minutes. Lucas went around with a big bag of pretzels and poured a small handful out onto each plate, and then they all settled into their chairs. 

“Travis, since Jawn isn’t here, I’d like you to say grace for us,” Lucas prompted, holding his hands out to Awsten and Ashton. Zakk had filled Jawn’s usual seat instead of his own so Awsten could reach him better. 

“Okay.” He cleared his throat. “Dear God, thank you for Lucas not making me put lettuce on my turkey today and thank you for Awsten playing with me at the playground and thank you for the food you gaved us for lunch, and thank you for the waffles at breakfast this morning. I love you. Amen.”

“Amen,” the table echoed.

“So, Awsten,” Lucas began, “I talked to your therapist this afternoon, and I’ll be taking you to see him tomorrow.” 

Awsten nodded. 

“I’ll drive you down there after lunch.”

A throat cleared off to the side, and there was Jawn, clad in socks and pajamas, his eyes red-rimmed and puffy. 

“Hey,” Lucas said softly. 

“Um, hi,” Jawn replied, and then he cleared his throat. “Is it cool if I… eat with you guys?”

“Of course,” Lucas nodded. “There’s a plate for you in the fridge and pretzels in the pantry.” 

“Thanks,” Jawn murmured. 

Zakk glanced at Awsten in an attempt to gauge whether Awsten wanted him to move to his normal chair or to stay where he was, but Awsten was so busy waiting for Jawn to do something violent that he didn’t even notice Zakk trying to catch his eye. But Jawn didn’t - just padded across the kitchen, removed the plate from the refrigerator, filled a cup with water, and wandered to the table. He wordlessly filled Zakk’s usual seat, drew his knees up to his chest, and sipped at his drink. 

“Jawn, put your feet down,” Lucas instructed gently.

Jawn obliged. He wrapped both hands around his cup and held it, lightly and absently drumming his fingertips against the glass. 

Ashton subtly prompted Travis to talk about the playground, and Travis launched into a story about how he tripped. As he spoke, Awsten kept staring at Jawn. Jawn must have sensed it, because he looked up and gave Awsten a sad smile. 

Awsten swallowed and quickly looked down at his plate.

When lunch was over and cleaned up, Jawn went upstairs, and Awsten, Ashton, and Travis hung out in the game room until Lucas came in.

“It’s quiet time, guys,” he announced, holding the door open so they could all exit the room. “Put your shoes upstairs, please. You can come back down after if you want, but you need to take care of the shoes now."

The three of them headed into the kitchen to retrieve their shoes. Awsten grabbed The Five People You Meet In Heaven from the counter and then followed the other boys upstairs, where he reluctantly walked into his bedroom.

Jawn greeted him with a quiet, “Hey.”

“Hey,” Awsten echoed.

Awsten set his shoes down by the dresser and sat down on his poorly-made bed. An awkward silence filled the room. Aware that Jawn was watching him, Awsten took his time opening to the page he’d bookmarked with Mr. W’s note to him. 

“Sorry about this morning,” Jawn finally muttered. 

Awsten nodded, not looking up. “’s okay.” 

The heavy silence draped over the room like a blanket. 

 

* * *

  

** FutureFaith Church  
March 12, 6:31 PM **

Awsten could hear loud [hip-hop music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DN0I4007m6w) blaring before the boys even got all the way up the staircase. Lucas had dropped the four boys off at the front door of the church, and Awsten followed after them as they walked up a flight of stairs and down a narrow hallway. 

As they grew closer to the end of the hall, chatter, bass vibrations, and the smell of Pizza Hut filled the air. Ashton walked through a doorway, and Travis and Jawn went with him, so Awsten did, too. 

“AYYYYYY WASSUP, WASSUP!”

Awsten’s eyes went wide as a guy in a maroon baseball cap jogged over to them. 

“My crew! Hey, Jawn. Hey, Ash. Hey, Lil T. Get in here!” He grabbed all three of them in a big bear hug at the same time.

Awsten stood awkwardly off to the side and glanced around the room. There were three girls and a few guys there, all sitting in little groups and talking while they ate their pizza.

The guy in the baseball cap continued, “Thanks so much for yesterday. The nursery looks great - I super appreciate you.” He glanced over to the doorway. “Where’s Lucas at?”

“He had to get groceries, and he wants to drop them off at home and put them away before he comes back and gets us,” Jawn explained. 

“Oh, gotcha, gotcha, gotcha.” The man’s eyes drifted over to Awsten, who had one arm wrapped across his abdomen. “Hey, man! Welcome!”

“Hi,” Awsten murmured, taking a step closer.

“This is Awsten!” Travis announced. 

“Hey, Awsten. You can call me Jon or JB. Either is fine. It’s so nice to meet you.” He stepped forward to pull Awsten into a hug. 

Awsten hesitated for a moment but decided to return it.

“Welcome to Wednesday Night.” He let go of Awsten and stepped back, asking, “Are you from Peace and Purpose?”

Awsten nodded.

“Cool! Well, we’re so glad you’re here.” He motioned to an array of mismatched sofas (not unlike the ones at the group home) and a table covered with a heap of pizza boxes, three 2-liter containers of Sprite, and a few dozen bottles of water. “Take a slice. Or five. Take a whole box.” He laughed. “I keep telling the little old ladies from the prayer group that they send too much pizza, but they keep sending it anyway.” He shook his head fondly. “Feeds me for three days, though,” he admitted, rubbing his stomach.

“Lucky!” Travis cried.

Jon laughed and then looked over his shoulder. “Ay, where's Big T at? He should be around here somewhere.”

“Did someone say Big T?” came a booming voice, and in from the hall ducked a black man with dreadlocks pulled into a ponytail. His eyes lit up at the sight of Travis. “Lil T! Buddy!”

Awsten watched, confused but amused as Travis bounded forward to fling his arms around the man’s stomach. 

‘Big T’ laughed heartily, hugging Travis back. “Where you been, little man? How’s your week?”

“Good! I got to go on a slide today!” 

“Sounds awesome.” The man mussed Travis’ hair and said to him, “Go get your pizza and then come find me. I wanna hear all about it.”

Travis hurried to grab a paper plate.

“Awsten, come here,” Ashton called. “I got some people I want you to meet.” 

Awsten followed him across the room to a boy with a buzzcut in a black Venum hoodie sitting on the floor with a bigger Hispanic guy. 

“Hey, guys,” Ashton said.

"What's up, Ash?" the Hispanic guy asked amiably. The other one lifted a hand in a peace sign. 

“This is Nate and Eduardo,” Ashton told him. 

“I’m Eduardo,” Eduardo said, clarifying.

“Hey,” Awsten said, fiddling with the drawstrings on Mr. W's sweatsshirt. “I’m Awsten.” 

Eduardo didn’t stand up when he shook Awsten’s hand, but Nate did. He didn’t speak, though.

“Dude, you want some pizza?” Ashton asked.

“Sure.” 

Ashton started to walk away. “Cheese or pepperoni?” 

“Um, cheese. Wait-”

Ashton leaned closer to him and murmured encouragingly, “They’re nice. Just hang out, make a friend.”

Ashton left, and Eduardo patted a spot on the floor next to himself. Awsten sat there, positioned so he was facing both boys. It was clear that they were both waiting for him to speak, so he glanced around and then pointed up at the ceiling, where the music seemed to be coming from.

“Is this music, like… appropriate? For a church?”

“Yeah, man,” Eduardo nodded. 

“But… it’s rap.”

“Haven’t you heard of Lecrae?” he asked incredulously.

Nate elbowed Eduardo. 

“Hey, what was that for?” Turning back to Awsten, Eduardo advised, “Listen to the words.”

Awsten tried, but there was too much noise going on around the room. He couldn't cut through it to focus. But just then, Ashton showed back up with three pieces of pizza on a paper plate and a cup full to the brim with soda. 

“Thanks,” Awsten said as Ashton transferred it to him. But before he could say anything else, Ashton disappeared to get more pizza and Sprite, and Awsten realized that all three pieces of pizza were for him. 

He hadn’t had pizza from an actual delivery company since one of Otto’s birthday parties. Maybe in, like, seventh grade. He set the plate and drink down, picked up the biggest slice, and took a tentative bite.

Sweet tomato sauce and hot, melty, rich cheese exploded over his tongue.

“Ohf moh god,” Awsten immediately moaned, his mouth full. He cupped a hand over his lips as he spoke. “Thith ith tho good!” 

Eduardo laughed. 

“Oh my god,” Awsten repeated once he’d swallowed. He wanted to drop a passionate, ' _Fuck_ ,' too, but he caught himself just in time. 

Ashton came back over and plopped onto the ground beside Awsten. He leaned across the small circle to bump Nate’s fist.

“I love pizza so much,” Awsten announced just before shoving another bite into his mouth. 

Ashton laughed and patted Awsten on the back. “That’s why I got you three, mate. I had a feeling.” 

Dinner wrapped up (Awsten ate all three of the slices Ashton brought him and went back for one more), and Big T turned the music down. Jon whistled to get everyone’s attention. Quiet fell almost immediately. 

“Hey, guys. Thank you so much for coming to Wednesday Night. Tonight we’re gonna be talking some more about The Sermon on the Mount, and we’ve got some fun stuff planned for you. But before we start that, let’s go to God in prayer. Bow your heads.”

Awsten obeyed.

“Father God, we love you, and we’re so glad to be here in your presence this Wednesday Night, God. We pray that you will be…”

Awsten opened his eyes and glanced around. All the kids had their heads bowed, even Travis and Jawn, who were sitting side by side a few feet away from Awsten’s spot on the carpet. Awsten counted three girls and six guys, himself included. Once he was done counting, he lowered his head again and closed his eyes.

“…we thank you for your constant guidance and presence, God. And all God’s people say?”

“Amen,” everyone chorused.

"Who wants to tell me what we talked about last week?" Jon prompted.

Travis' hand shot up.

"Lil T?"

"We ate crackers and pretzels with a blindfold!"

"You got it. Why did I make you guys do that?"

"Cause we're the salt of the earth, but we can't lose our salt, cause then we're no good!"

"Right, we can't lose our saltiness," Jon nodded. "Does anyone know what comes after the part about the salt in the Bible?"

A girl with dark, curly hair raised her hand. 

"Yes, Zoey!"

"Um, it's light, right? The whole 'you are the light of the world' thing?"

"You got it!" Jon clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Alright! Who wants to play a game?”

There was a small chorus of “Me!”s from around the room. 

“Big T has a whoooole bunch of glow sticks for you guys. You get three,” Jon said, flicking up three fingers. “You gotta crack all of ’em and then put ’em around your neck. No arms, no feet, no anything else. Neck.”

Hands stretched up to where the tall man was handing out clusters of glow sticks. Awsten noticed Nate and Jawn patiently waiting, and he was glad. He didn’t want to be the only one. 

“I’m gonna turn out the lights, and we’re gonna play Hide and Go Seek.” Jon looked over at Awsten. “You wanna be It first?”

“Oh. Um, o-okay,” he stuttered. 

Jon motioned for him up to stand beside him, so Awsten did. 

Jon clapped both hands on Awsten’s shoulders and said, “Alright. This is Awsten! Everybody say, ‘Hi, Awsten!’”

“Hi, Awsten!”

Awsten waved at them and then loosely crossed his arms over his chest. 

“In a second, I'm gonna send you guys to go around the room and hide, Awsten’s gonna come find you. Whoever he finds sets one of their glow sticks on the ground, and then they’re It. Once all your sticks are gone, you’re out. Last man standing wins. Everybody understand?”

There were lots of nods and a few cries of, “yep!”

"Boundaries: nobody leaves this room. No going more than five feet off the ground; I know I've got some crazy monkeys in here - Nate and Zoey - so don't go climbing on top of the cabinets or anything. I don't want your dad suing me when you fall and break your arm."

The curly haired girl looked at the buzzcut boy and laughed.

"And if we can't find you at the end," Jon said, back to the whole group, "you gotta come out when I call you. I'm too young for a heart attack."

Awsten looked over to where Jawn and Ashton were helping Travis fasten his necklaces. 

“And no hiding them in your collars!” Big T called. “You cheat, you’re disqualified.” He pointed at a pretty girl with blonde hair. “Ciara, I’m looking at you.” 

She sighed and made accidental eye contact with Awsten, then rolled her eyes and turned away.

"Alright. You got thirty seconds to pick a place. Awsten, turn around for me, dude." Awsten obliged, and Jon shooed the group with his hands. "Go!" 

The room plunged into darkness.

Awsten had always hated Hide and Seek and the accompanying eerie feeling he got in the pit of his stomach. There was something unsettling about knowing there were several people lurking behind doors and under tables, watching his every move as he wandered around searching for them. 

Once he'd counted to twenty, he took a quiet breath and turned around. Immediately, he was able to see lines of green and purple and blue glowing throughout the room. He went to the first one he’d spotted and, upon closer inspection, came to find out that it was Nate. 

Nate wordlessly removed one of his necklaces and set it on the floor next to Awsten, who went to hide.

Barely two minutes passed before Jon called, “Nope. Ciara, you’re out.”

“But I-”

“Nope. Done. Go sit out.”

Awsten could hear her dramatic groan from his spot behind the storage closet.

“We’re down to three,” Big T announced after several more minutes. 

“Who’s still in?” someone asked. It sounded like Ashton.

“Nate, Awsten, and Jawn.”

Awsten swallowed. He was left with only one necklace, but now he was also completely covered by couch cushions. He kind of couldn’t believe that no one had looked there. 

“Ohhh!” the group murmured.

“Nate’s out!” Jon called. “Awsten, if Jawn gives up, you win!” Jon dropped his voice and said to Big T, “I have no idea where he is.” 

“I do,” Big T responded.

Another minute passed, and Awsten closed his eyes. It was incredibly hot, and it was getting hard to breathe. He hoped Jawn would hurry up and forefit when suddenly, the cushion was yanked right off of his head.

“AHA!” Jawn cried.

“Aw, shit,” Awsten muttered. 

The lights came back on, and Jon announced, “Alright, let’s hear it for Jawn!”

There was a smattering of applause, and Jawn helped Awsten get to his feet and replace the cushions. Jawn tentatively smiled at him, and Awsten smiled back. Relieved, Jawn laughed and nudged Awsten’s shoulder with his own. They walked side by side back to the group.

“Alright,” Jon said. He perched on the arm of one of the couches and spoke to the kids, who were all sitting on the carpet. “Who here was afraid of the dark when they were a kid?”

Almost all the hands went up.

“Yeah, me, too. How 'bout now? Who still doesn’t like the dark?”

A few hands, Travis’ and Awsten’s included.

“Why do you think so many kids are afraid of the dark?” 

“Because they can’t see,” Ciara blurted. “They don’t know if there’s something bad with them.”

Jon nodded. “Yeah. Ashton?”

“Kids can imagine monsters and ghosts and things, and it’s easy for them to think it might really be there.”

“Definitely,” Jon agreed.

Travis waved his hand around wildly until he was called on. “Because it’s our instinct in our brains to protect ourselves and stay safe, and when it’s dark, it’s harder to defend ourselves.”

“Wow, Travis, that’s great,” Jon said, surprised at the thorough answer. “Anybody else?” When no more hands went up, Jon said, “The world can be a scary place to a little kid. They don’t know what’s out in the dark - monsters, animals, bad guys - and the fear of the unknown is scary. But sometimes the fear of what we know can be just as scary. Or more.

“There are children all around the world who have real reasons to be afraid every day - reasons much scarier than a make-believe creature under their bed. There are probably people in this room right now that have lived that and know exactly what I'm talking about.” He paused. “Sometimes the world can be a dark place,” he said softly. “And sometimes the hurt and the pain and the darkness are real.” 

Awsten looked down at his hands, wondering why on earth Lucas had sent the boys here. This didn’t seem like it would help them at all. In fact, it seemed like quite the opposite.

“Me and Big T have been collecting newspapers for the last couple weeks, and Big T is putting them out around the room right now,” Jon told the kids. “In the pages are tons of examples of just how dark and full of hurt our world is right now. I’m gonna give you some time to go through these papers, and what I want you to do is find some dark stories that really stick out to you. Take your time and really read the articles, and stay silent to give everybody the chance to read and think. Once you’re done, what I need you to do is tear your page out and bring it over here - we’re going to tape them to the wall. You can bring as many stories to the wall as you want. The more, the better, okay?”

What the hell was the point of this?

“I”m going to give you guys each a little flashlight,” he added, holding one up. It was silver, a little keychain. He flicked it on and off. “And once we start taping articles up, I’m going to turn out the lights. That doesn’t mean time’s up. It just means you’ve gotta turn on your flashlight. Questions?”

No response.

Jon motioned out to the space. “Alright. Spread out, find a paper. Really take your time, guys.”

A soft song came on in the background, just some light guitar and a gentle voice. 

Awsten found himself a little lost in the movie review section, but he managed to pull himself back to the task at hand several moments later when Jon turned the lights out. He switched his flashlight on, and as soon as he managed to locate an article about a group of men and the animal cruelty they committed, he tore it out; he wasn’t sure what could be much darker than that. 

Once he taped his story up, Awsten walked down the wall, looking at the articles that the other kids had brought for theyouth leaders to hang.

 

_Alabama Journalist Shot Dead In Kiev_

_Senator Caught in Sex Scandal Resigns_

_Gunman Kills Three in Belgium Attack_

_Is Social Media Normalizing Campus Racism?_

_Forced Marriage: Parents Guilty of Luring Daughter to Bangladesh_

_National Guardsman Found Dead After Flood_

 

Awsten didn’t read the news often, and these headlines were exactly why. He felt his stomach sinking with every word.

“Awsten,” Jawn murmured. He was standing a few feet away, his flashlight trained on a clipping a little above eye level. 

Awsten headed toward him, his light shining on the piece. It was easily the largest one, nearly half a page. There was a large picture at the top, but Awsten couldn’t make it out from the distance. Once he got up close, his eyes zeroed in on the words.

_Single Death in Lakeview High School Shooting,_ it read. 

Awsten just stared.

His whole week - the worst week of his entire life - had been reduced to a single, emotionless sentence. He swallowed and stepped closer, and Jawn moved slightly out of the way so Awsten could get a better look. His eyes danced down from the headline to the photo, and his breath caught in his throat.

The caption screamed, _English teacher Geoff Wigington comforts a student after the early morning shooting at Lakeview High School,_ but even without the words, Awsten would have recognized himself.

Shakily, Awsten whispered, “That’s me.” 

“What?” Ashton asked confusedly. 

“Are you serious?” Jawn murmured.

Awsten hadn’t even known Ashton was standing there, but he just nodded and pointed up at the photo. “That’s me,” he whispered. “In the picture. That - that’s… me.” 

Otto’s parents got this paper. Everyone in Lakeview - everyone in _Houston_ \- got this paper. How had he not known? 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to see it, but I didn’t feel like I could take it down since it's not mine,” Jawn explained under his breath.

“No, I - yeah. Yeah. Thanks.” 

“I’m so sorry, Awsten,” Ashton murmured. “I had no idea. I didn't even know there was a shooting.”

Awsten nodded again.

“Are you okay?” Jawn asked, and he looked like he wanted the real answer to the question. 

No. No, he wasn’t fucking okay. But he wasn’t about to admit to that now. If he did, his entire world would come crashing down. 

“Yeah,” Awsten lied. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to get his feet to move. He just stood, staring at the picture. He couldn’t bring himself to read the words underneath it, because the image was too powerful. Seeing it made him feel like he was right back there. 

He could practically hear the chaos in the parking lot. He could feel the weight of his wet clothes and smell the fluids on them. He remembered clutching Mr. W so tightly that his fingers hurt, feeling the blood, slick and wet all over his skin, Otto and Alex frantically running to get to him, Mr. W holding him and repeatedly promising that he was safe and that all the bad was over…

Awsten reached up and ran his fingers over the picture. 

“That’s so sad,” came a girl’s flat voice. 

Awsten turned to see Ciara standing right behind Ashton.

Ciara smacked her gum. “My parents say Lakeview’s not far from here.” 

“It’s like half an hour,” Awsten offered softly. “Or maybe more like forty-five minutes.” 

“That’s so sad,” she repeated, as insincere as before.

“Ciara. Quiet, please.”

“He was talking to me!” she protested.

Awsten froze, but Jon didn’t seem interested in her accusation.

“Ciara. Quiet, please,” he repeated.

Ciara sighed and moved on, shining her beam on an article about a missing little girl. 

Ashton wrapped a comforting hand over Awsten’s left shoulder, and the three boys stood together in silence until Jon called the group back over.

“‘You are the light of the world,’” he read from a battered bible. “'A town built on a hill cannot be hidden.  Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.’

“Jesus told his disciples to shine, and you guys, his words are true for _us,_ too; we shine so others see the light and see God.” He set his bible down. “Look around this room. It might look like we’re just - completely  _surrounded_ by darkness, but think about the challenge that Jesus is giving to us. He agrees that the world is dark with pain and hurt and loneliness and… what else? Go ahead and shout it out.”

“Fear.”

“Stress.”

“Anger,” Jawn murmured.

“Regret,” Awsten added. 

“Sadness.” 

“Yeah, that’s right,” Jon nodded. “All of those things. But here’s the amazing thing that Jesus shares with us; _we_ are the light of the world.”

Awsten wanted to sit back and scoff, but he forced himself to stay still.

“We shine the light of Jesus - or we _should_ be shining the light and the love of Jesus in the middle of this pain. Can we ‘fix’ each and every one of these situations?”

The boys and girls shook their heads.

“No. But what we can do is to shine God's light and love through our actions. Start where we are and shine. Think about this – where is there darkness around you? Maybe at school, or in your neighborhood, or at home even. What would it look like to shine in those situations? You don’t have to answer - just take a moment and think about that. What does it look like to shine in the darkness in your life?”

After he gave them a moment to contemplate, Jon said, “It doesn’t have to be cheesy or complicated or preachy. It is as simple as sharing your snack with someone else, you guys. Giving up your seat on the bus. Holding a door. Checking your patience. Big or small, okay? Shine the light that Christ puts inside of you. Cause when we really let the light of Christ shine into our own lives, it leaks out without us really trying sometimes. Shining becomes a part of who you are."

Jon let that set in.

“As we get ready to close, I want you to take a few minutes to walk around this room again and use your flashlight to reread the stories. Pray as you read. And what I want you to do is choose one of the stories to take with you. This week, be in prayer that the light of Christ would shine in these places.” He nodded at the kids. “Go ahead, and come back when you’re finished.” 

Awsten got straight to his feet and made a beeline for the Lakeview story. He pulled it off the wall, not caring when the top ripped. He folded it several times and shoved it deep into the left pocket of Mr. W's sweatshirt. Then he took a moment to pretend like he was re-reading the rest of the articles.

He watched Nate, who still hadn’t said a single word, carefully take down the story of the missing little girl and Ashton pick the one about the man in the National Guard that passed away. Ciara chose the one about the forced marriage.

When Awsten felt that enough time had passed, he went and sat back down beside Travis, who had been - of course - the first one back. 

“I want you guys to take your flashlight with you, okay? Those are for you. Take it home and put it somewhere to remind you to shine God’s light in your own life. Don’t keep the light hidden, okay? Shine.” Jon smiled. “Alright. Bow your heads.”

 

* * *

 

** Peace and Purpose Home for Young Men - Jawn and Awsten's Room  
March 12, 8:22 PM **

There was a soft knock at the open door frame. “Hey, Awsten. Can I talk to you?” 

Awsten had been expecting Lucas to ask that from the second he caught Jawn giving Lucas a worried look in the parking lot. He set his paperback down in lieu of speaking. 

“You’re going be done with that book before I can blink, aren’t you?” Lucas smiled. “We’ll have to get you to the library soon.”

Awsten stared down at the bedspread and traced one of the seams with his nails. 

“Listen… some of the gentlemen told me what happened at bible study earlier.” 

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Lucas nodded. “Okay. I just wanted to let you know that I’m here if you do.”

“I don’t.” 

“Alright. If you change your mind, let me know.” 

Soon after Lucas left, Jawn came in. “Hey,” he said. “So, I know this is kind of a crazy question after this morning, but I could really use some help studying. Will you… help me?” 

Awsten swallowed. He wanted to say no, but how was he supposed to? 

It must have shown on his face, because Jawn glumly said, “You don’t have to.” 

“No, it’s okay," Awsten told him, sitting up. Shine the light or whatever, right? "I will. What do you need?” 

“Can I just tell you stuff? Like, explain it to you? My therapist said that might help.” Quickly, he added, “I promise I won’t get mad.”

“Sure.” Awsten grabbed Oliver off the dresser and went to sit on Jawn’s bed. 

“Thanks,” Jawn sighed, blowing his hair back from his face. He turned to chapter twelve and started teaching Awsten about centripetal force. 

 

* * *

 

** Peace and Purpose Home for Young Men- Jawn and Awsten's Room  
March 12, 9:15 PM **

“Wait, so centrifugal force is _fake?!_ ” Awsten half-yelled, clutching Oliver tighter. 

“Well… yes and no,” Jawn said slowly, not sure exactly how to word it. 

“Guys! Meeting time!”

“That's crazy. I’m asking Ryan about it tomorrow,” Awsten noted as he tossed Oliver onto his quilt. Jawn closed his book and slipped it back into its spot under his bed.

“Safety levels?” Lucas asked as the four boys traveled down the staircase.

“Ten,” they all chorused.

“Excellent. Ashton, how are you feeling?”

“I feel satisfied,” he answered immediately.

“Satisfied,” Lucas repeated curiously. “I don’t think I’ve ever gotten that answer before. And I’m not sure it counts as an emotion, but I’m going to let that slide this time. Why ‘satisfied’?”

“I don’t know. I really liked bible study tonight. I got to know Awsten a lot better there and at the playground. But I think it’s mostly because I did something even though it was hard. It was the right thing.” 

“That’s important.” 

“Uh-huh. And my goal was to be patient, and I was.” 

“Good! Number for the day?”

“Eighty-seven.”

“Wow! Alright - Jawn. How you feeling?”

“Anxious.” 

“What’s going on?”

“My test is tomorrow morning,” he explained nervously.

“How are you dealing with your anxiety?” 

“Studying more.”

“Yes, but it’s about to be lights out.” 

“I’ll keep studying in my head til I fall asleep.”

Lucas chuckled lightly. “Okay. Hypothetically, if you get overwhelmed, do you have a plan?”

“Uh… 5-7-8 breathing and physically relaxing my body.”

“Excellent. And you know I’m right across the landing if you need me.”

Jawn nodded.

“Let’s talk about your goal.”

“Um, I wanted to feel confident for my test by dinner.”

“Did you meet that goal?”

Slowly, he shook his head.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Lucas told him.

“Yeah. And it’s a 30, and that’s all I want to say, so someone else can go now.” 

“Alright. Travis? How do you feel?”

“Happy.”

Lucas grinned. “Excellent. What made you happy?” 

“Big T!”

“How did I know?” Lucas chuckled. “And what was your goal?”

“To do good at bible study.”

“And what do you think? Did you meet that goal?”

“He definitely did,” Ashton supplied. 

“I’m asking Travis,” Lucas reminded gently. 

“I did,” he said proudly. 

“Great job,” Lucas said warmly, and Ashton pleaded “Can I hug him?”

“No, Ashton, you know the rule.” 

“Imagine me hugging you really tight,” Ashton said to Travis, who smiled wider. 

“What’s your number for the day?”

“A hundred!”

Lucas raised his eyebrows and exclaimed, “Wow, Travis!” He made a note on his clipboard.

“This is the best day ever, even though I fell down!”

Everyone laughed. 

“Okay, Ca- I mean, Awsten. How are you feeling?”

“I feel…” He bit his lower lip. “I don’t know. Not great.” 

“What kind of not great?”

“Like, I feel okay, but also sad and… nervous. But I don’t know why I’m nervous. I don’t have anything to be worried about.”

“That’s alright - sometimes our emotions don’t make sense right away.” 

Awsten noticed that Lucas wrote both ‘sad’ and ‘nervous’ on his line.

“Do you want to move on to your goal?”

“Yeah. It was to have an open mind at bible study. And I did.”

“And what’s your number for the day?”

“Forty-five,” he said softly. 

“Okay.” He glanced over his notes. “I’m really proud of you guys.”

Jawn stared down at his lap, and Travis bounced a little in his seat. 

“You all had triumphs today, however big or small. Whether it was a good day on its own or you had to work through something, you survived. Now it's time for you all to go upstairs and get some good sleep.”  


“Why?” Ashton asked. “What’s on the schedule for tomorrow?”

Lucas grinned. “Another day!” 


	11. You Have Peace When You Make It With Yourself

** Peace and Purpose Home for Young Men - School Room  
** ** March 13, 10:49 AM **

School dragged on the third day - math always seemed to have that effect on Awsten. Brendon’s enthusiasm made it better, but it was still brutal. 

The boys spent more time in the school room than they had the day before, and Awsten grew tired of the math after a while and asked if he could talk to Brendon about the book like Mr. W had asked. 

“You really like reading, huh?” Brendon asked when Awsten was done sharing his ideas about the man with the blue skin and what Eddie’s heaven might turn out to be like. 

Awsten’s cheeks colored.

Brendon wrapped his fingers tightly around Awsten’s. “No, it’s good. It’s wonderful.” His eyes sparkled.

“Well, I’m not very fast, but-”

“Oh, that doesn’t matter!” Brendon cried happily. “It’s not about how fast you can get through it. It’s about whether it makes you _feel_. And it makes you feel.” 

Awsten supposed it did. He wondered what Mr. W would think of Brendon.

Soon enough, the boys broke for lunch, and Awsten was tasked with actual cooking for the first time. He was a little anxious as he removed several chicken breasts from the fridge and set them on the counter. 

Ashton drifted over to join Awsten in staring down at the daunting meat. “Ah,” he said softly. 

“What?” Awsten asked, worriedly turning his head to look at him.

“Chicken. God, it’s the hardest thing we cook.”

Awsten gulped. “It is?”

“Yeah, it’s the _worst_. You have to stick it in the oven and just… walk away…” he said dramatically, lifting the back of his hand to his own forehead.

“You suck,” he shot, but he couldn’t stop a relieved laugh from emerging.

Ashton winked and headed back to the cabinet with the glasses.

 

* * *

 

** Peace and Purpose Home for Boys - Kitchen  
March 13, 12:59 PM **

Awsten hadn’t been paying close attention in the morning meeting, and it showed when he was surprised to hear a knock at the kitchen door around one o’clock. He looked toward the source of the noise and saw a girl with dyed blonde hair waving at the window.

“Yoo-hoo!” she sang through the glass in a loud voice. 

Lucas smiled and gave her a wave back. “Alright, head on out,” he ordered the boys, motioning them out the door. “I’ll finish cleaning up.” 

Awsten dried his hands on a dish towel and then brushed them off again on his shirt. He ducked outside with Ashton, Travis, and Jawn. They stopped in the patch of grass beside the house - all except Travis, who darted forward for a hug. 

Her hands were full, but the girl gave him the best one-armed embrace she could manage. “Hey, guys,” she grinned. When she let go, she tugged at the strap of one of her paint-splattered overalls. On top of her hair was a knotted bandana, under her arm were several huge rolls of white paper, and in her voice was a thick southern accent. She stuck her hand out to Awsten. “How do you do? My name’s Molly.” 

“I’m Awsten.”  


“Awsten,” she repeated to herself, closing her eyes for a moment. “Awsten, Awsten, Awsten.” Then she opened her eyes and smiled at him. “Awsten. Got it. Nice to meet you.” She glanced over the small congregation of boys and then muttered, “Oh, I forgot about Cal.” Quickly, she moved on. “Now, I know how you guys love to make a mess, so I brought paint today.”

Awsten’s glance to the side showed him that all of the boys seemed pleased.

“I’ve got giant pieces of paper for you guys, and Bessie’s holding onto about fifty jars of paint,” she explained, jerking her thumb over her shoulder.

Awsten looked in the direction. He’d been expecting to see another girl, but the only thing Molly could have been motioning to was a rusting, faded, blue pickup. Sure enough, she sent Jawn to the bed of the truck to retrieve a massive, dripping tray of multicolored paints. While he was doing that, she laid down paper the size of bedsheets and had the boys line up side by side, each behind a piece.

“So! What we’re gonna do,” Molly explained once Jawn returned and filed into place behind the last sheet, “is get some rocks or something - or you can use your shoes if you don’t care about getting paint on ‘em - to hold the corners of your papers down. And I’ve got all different size brushes for you, and you can pick what paint color you want. You can switch whenever you want,” she assured. “You’re not stuck with one the whole time. Um, and so get your brush all wet with paint, and we’re gonna go one at a time, and I’m gonna call out a category. When it’s your turn, I want you to say something that fits that category for you. Like if I said 'something that makes you happy,' you might say ‘pigs’ or ‘music’ or ‘free time.’ And just fling that paintbrush and - I’m talking Jackson Pollock, y’all, just wave it around and splatter the paint all over the paper. But you only get one fling per turn. We’ll change topics every time. Okay?”

Awsten was pretty sure he understood, but he hoped he wouldn’t be called on first.

“Kay, cool. Everybody grab some paint.”

Jawn went for red right away, and Travis grabbed a happy shade of pink. Awsten took his time thinking, but he noticed after a few seconds that Ashton was waiting for Awsten to choose before he chose his own. Awsten hurried up and selected a medium shade of blue. Ashton picked up another red.

“Awsten! You wanna go first?” Molly called.

_Of course._ “Sure,” he replied, forcing a smile.

“Perfect. Okay, tell me something you like about the group home.” 

“Um… I like my tutor.”

She looked at him encouragingly, and he weakly flicked his paintbrush, spraying a few droplets of blue on the paper. In response, Molly threw her head back and let out a loud laugh. “No!” she chuckled. “Bigger!” 

Awsten halfheartedly tried again. 

“Okay, that was a little better,” she smiled. “We’ll work on it. Ashton, you’re up. What’s something you like here?”

“My roommate.”

Travis scrunched his face into a pleased smile.

“Go for it,” Molly encouraged.

Ashton let the paint go flying onto his blank canvas. A drop of red smacked onto the corner of Awsten’s, and he stared down at it. His eyes shifted to Ashton’s paper, which displayed a pattern with an unsettling resemblance to the skin on Awsten’s face after Michael pulled the trigger.

“Travis. Something you like here.”

“I like the way it's like I have a nice family. Even if it’s not my real family.”

“I love that,” Molly nodded. “Chosen family can mean just as much or even more than the family you’re born into. Jawn? What do you like here?”

“Lucas."

More red rained down, this time onto Jawn’s paper. Awsten forced himself to take a slow breath. He wished Otto was there. 

“Hey, Miley?” Ashton asked, and Awsten blinked. Maybe it was Ashton’s accent, but he could have sworn he said her name strangely. The girl didn’t correct him.

“Yeah?”

“Can I pick another color, please?”

“Yeah, go for it!” She motioned toward the tray, and Awsten was honestly a little relieved when Ashton returned with a small yellow container in his hand.

“Okay, Awsten, tell me something that you like about your personality.”

“My personality?” he echoed awkwardly, stalling for time.

“Yep.”

“Um… I like… my…” God, not this again. “I like my…”

“It’s okay; take your time.”

He did, falling quiet as he thought. He was weak, selfish… Then Ashton’s from the playground words popped into his head. “I’m nice,” he decided.

“Well, good,” Molly - Miley? - smiled. “Alright, give it a real Pollock swing.”

Awsten still wasn’t sure what that meant, but he tried to emulate what the other guys had done.

“Yes!” she praised, and he smiled in spite of himself; positive affirmation always felt overwhelmingly good.  She gave him a firm pat on the shoulder. “There you go! You just gotta put some back into it.”

He softly huffed a laugh. 

“Ash, you’re up. What’s something you like about your personality?” 

“I have a big heart,” Ashton affirmed, and the sentiment was followed by Travis’ “I’m smart,” and Jawn’s “I’m strong.” 

They did a few more light rounds before things grew serious.

“Okay, guys. This time, I want you to share something that’s weighing on you. Let’s start at the other end.” 

Jawn rubbed at his jaw. “I’m… I’ve been thinking a lot about using.” 

Awsten’s eyebrows shot up before he could stop them. Using _what?_ Drugs?!

Jawn splattered paint on his canvas (he’d moved onto black).

“I been thinking about my family,” Travis said, just like he’d brought up in the morning meeting earlier that week.

“What about them?”

Travis swallowed. “How they… fucked me up,” Travis spat, testing out both the word and the reaction he’d get.

Ashton looked at Travis in surprise, but the girl just nodded in understanding and let him spray more pink paint onto his paper.

“I miss my mom and dad,” Ashton said softly, but he stopped with his brush halfway in the air. Very suddenly, he began to cry. He used his free hand to cover his mouth.

The girl wordlessly slipped to Ashton’s side and rubbed circles into the back of his t-shirt. She didn’t quiet him or offer any comfort, just allowed him a few moments to set the emotions free. When Ashton was done, he pulled the hem of his shirt up to his eyes and dried them. Then he let the fabric fall back into place and angrily flung a blue wave of paint onto his paper. 

“Awsten?” she asked, stepping toward him.

Awsten shrugged and offered, “I kind of can’t stop thinking about what happened to me.”

“Which was…? If you want to say.” 

He lowered his voice so only she could hear him. Tonelessly, he asked her, “You know the Lakeview shooting last Wednesday?” 

She nodded, a worried look crossing her face.

“I almost got shot. And I watched M- the _gunman_ kill himself. He was like, a foot in front of me. I got to hang out with his dead body for a minute before anybody came to help me.”

“Dear lord,” she whispered. 

He nodded emptily as he recognized the expression of surprised pity he’d begun to get used to. He gave her an out, though, by turning away from her and flicking paint off of his brush. As the discomfort and distress left his body and flew messily onto the paper, Awsten understood for the first time what the exercise was actually about.

“This time,” Miley or Molly or whatever her name was began, “I want you to tell me about something you’re afraid of. What’s scaring you?”

“I took my physics test this morning, and I have no idea how I did,” Jawn answered immediately. Black splatters of paint wildly dotted the paper.

“Sleeping with the lights off,” Travis added.

“What happens to you after you die,” Ashton admitted.

Awsten didn’t answer right away; he was too busy thinking that he should pass his book on to Ashton once he was finished with it. When he realized everyone was staring at him, he rushed out, “Oh, um. My nightmares.”

“Okay, last hard question, and then we’ll get lighter again” the girl promised. “What’s someone or something you’re angry at?”

“My dad,” Jawn growled. 

“My dad,” Travis echoed.

“People who only think about themselves.”

Awsten scratched his arm. “My dad,” he agreed.

True to her word, the girl with the overalls returned to easier questions. “This one’s a two-parter. Tell me a positive change you’ve made since you’ve been here and one you’re trying to make now.”

“I,” Jawn said thoughtfully, “learned to stop dwelling on the past.” Black paint hit the paper. “And I’m working on focusing on me and what I’m doing instead of what everyone else is doing.” He dipped his brush back in the paint but paused. “Can I have the white?”

“Sure.” The girl passed it to him, and he used that instead. “Trav?”

“I stopped doing private things in front of people,” Travis murmured, a bit of blush darkening his cheeks.

Ashton interrupted, “It’s okay. You didn’t know.”

“Yeah,” Travis muttered. “And, um, now I’m trying to behave good.”

“I learned how to cope with my feelings instead of just ignoring them,” Ashton acknowledged. “And… I’ve been working on… I guess a lot of my goals this week and last week have been about being patient and trying not to judge things and situations and stuff. Keeping an open mind and not making my mind up about something before I give it a chance.”

“That’s great, Ash.”

He nodded and swung his brush over the paper. That time, orange paint went flying through the air.

“Awsten, what about you?”

“Well, this is only my third day…”

“That’s okay! It can be something small.”

Awsten shrugged. “I’m… learning how to get used to, like. Having chores and stuff to do every day. Like how we cook. I’ve never had that before. And I guess I’m trying to… like Ashton said, trying to figure out how to cope with stuff.” 

Ashton gave Awsten a little smile. 

After about ten more minutes, the girl declared the activity complete. 

“Alright, let’s hang these babies up on my clothesline,” she said, motioning to the paintings. “You guys did great. Really great.”

“You, too, Miley,” Travis piped up. “That was real fun.”

“Aw, thank you, Travis. I’m glad you liked it,” she smiled. 

“I call hanging up my paper first!” he cried, snatching it from the grass and running off. 

Miley laughed. 

“You used one color the whole time,” Jawn observed as he looked at Awsten’s page.

“Didn’t feel like switching,” Awsten explained, brushing it off. 

“I used three.”

Ashton looked down at his and chimed in. “I used… nine.” 

Awsten glanced sideways at it, and it was true - red, purple, white, green, yellow, black, orange, and two shades of blue were smattered across the canvas.

“It looks good,” Awsten supplied.

“Thanks. Yours does, too.”

It was a white lie, and Awsten knew that, but he didn’t protest. Ashton was just trying to be nice.

“Awsten, Awsten!” Travis called, hopping from foot to foot. “Put yours next to mine!”

“Okay,” Awsten responded, and he upped the speed of his stride. Travis shoved two clothespins at him, which he used to hang his finished product beside Travis’ pink and yellow masterpiece.

“’s like the sky,” Travis observed once Awsten’s work was hanging up.

Awsten nodded, although he’d kind of thought it looked like the ocean. He’d never seen an ocean in real life, but he’d seen pictures, and they were probably close enough. 

 

* * *

** Peace and Purpose Home for Young Men - Jawn and Awsten's Room  
March 13, 3:04 PM **

Near the beginning of Thursday’s quiet time, Ashton poked his head out of the bathroom and into Jawn and Awsten’s room. “Lads!” he whispered.

Jawn and Awsten both looked up, Jawn from his sketches and Awsten from The Five People You Meet In Heaven.

“There’s a new guy here!”

Jawn had been lying on his stomach, but he sat up in surprise. “What? There’s only room for four of us.”

“Yeah, where will he sleep?” Awsten added.

“I don’t know,” Ashton admitted, “but Lucas just went out to meet him in the driveway. There are two grown-ups with him. They have a big bag and everything.”

“Maybe he’s, like, volunteering,” Jawn suggested. “Or writing an article about the house or something.” 

Before anyone could reply, the front door creaked open and Lucas’ voice drifted up the stairs. “Awsten?” 

Awsten and Jawn traded a confused glance. 

“Yeah?” he called back.

“There are some people here to see you.”

Awsten slowly got up from his bed and padded to the edge of the bedroom. He peeked out of the archway and then walked to the top of the stairs. When his eyes landed on the boy waiting in the entry, he gasped, let out a joyful cry, and flew down the steps. He leapt off the third one.  The boy rushed up to him, and their bodies smashed together, arms winding tightly around each other so they could push closer. They grappled for balance for a chaotic moment, tilting left and right and spinning halfway in a circle before they found their footing again. 

The hands pressed into Awsten’s back felt like home. 

“I missed you, I _missed_ you!” Awsten exclaimed into Otto’s shoulder. 

Otto didn’t speak. He just squeezed Awsten harder. 

Awsten pulled a long breath through his nose, taking in the comforting scent of the Woods’ laundry detergent and Otto’s shampoo and skin. “You’re here. You’re really here,” he whispered. 

Otto’s ribs contracted in a little flutter, and Awsten pulled back. “Are you crying?” he demanded, searching his best friend’s face.

Otto, who was somehow smaller than Awsten had remembered, had his eyes downcast and was trying valiantly to hide his emotion. 

“It’s okay,” Awsten said softly with a fond laugh as he spotted a tear rolling down Otto’s cheek. He smeared it away and told him, “I like it here. And you’re with me now. It’s okay, Otto, we’re together again.” He dove back in to hug Otto to his chest, and Otto latched onto him again, silently crying some more. 

Awsten smiled into Otto’s neck and, not even realizing he was doing it, rocked him gently from side to side. 

“Love you,” Otto finally muttered, swiping at his eyes and pulling back. 

“I love you, too.” 

A hand settled lightly on his shoulder, and Awsten turned around to find a pretty lady with watery eyes smiling at him.

“Mom,” he whispered. He threw his arms around her neck. 

“Hi, my baby,” she said softly, rubbing his back. 

Awsten shut his eyes, smelling her perfume and feeling her cool skin against his. He had a mother again, and she was here - she’d driven all this way for him, and she was genuinely happy to see him. It was all he’d ever dreamed of. Something about that knocked his defenses straight down. 

Awsten felt Otto’s fingers close around the side of his t-shirt, just over his hip, felt him rest his forehead against Awsten’s shoulder. Otto’s father joined the embrace, placing a steady hand on the back of Awsten’s neck. 

“I missed you guys so much,” Awsten stated as he stepped back to look at the family in front of him. “I know it’s only been, like, three days, but it’s… it feels like forever.” 

Otto nodded. 

“It felt the same way for us,” Otto’s mom agreed. She ran her hand over his hair and down his cheek. “We missed you very, very much, sweetie.” 

There was a loud scoff from upstairs, and Awsten looked up just in time to see Jawn stalking back into their shared bedroom. Awsten had no doubt that Jawn would have slammed the door, had there been a door to slam. A quick glance to the left showed that Ashton was watching from his doorway with wet eyes but a smile, and Travis had his forehead pressed between the railings underneath the banister, an unreadable expression on his face. 

“Let’s-” Awsten said, taking Otto’s mom by the arm and leading her toward the school room. “Let’s get away from the guys…” He walked them through the archway, switched the light on, and shut the door behind them. 

“How are you, son?” Otto’s dad asked.

Awsten nodded. “Good.”

“You like it here?”

“Yeah, most of the time.”

"What do you do?" Otto inquired.

"A lot," Awsten said with a little laugh. "I don't know."

"Well, what have you boys been up to today?" Otto's mom prompted, looking curious.

"We had a meeting in the morning where we talk about the schedule for the day, which we do every day. And then we made breakfast - we had cereal and juice today, and we don't normally get juice, so that was fun. After that, we did school in here, and then we made lunch... I made chicken in the oven, and I didn't burn the house down." He smiled when Otto's parents laughed. "Um, and then we had art therapy... our stuff we made is outside. It doesn't look like much, but I can show you later if you want. And then we got to hang out in the game room for a while, and then we went upstairs for quiet time, and now you're here."

Otto wandered over to Awsten's stack of books. “This is where you work on school stuff?” he asked.

“Uh-huh.” Awsten looked at Otto’s parents as he spoke. “My tutor is really nice. A little crazy, but really nice. He thinks I should be able to graduate on time.”

“That’s great!” Otto’s dad smiled. 

“How do you take tests?” Otto wondered. 

“The teachers send them in an email, and the tutors print them out and give them to us. We take them in the office,” he said, pointing across the hall to the little room. “That way, we’re by ourselves and it’s quiet. Jawn - that’s my roommate. He had one this morning. I have one next week. But I took my quiz in the school room just during school.” 

Otto nodded. Then he went back to where Awsten was standing and wrapped him up in another hug. “I came home, and you were gone,” he whispered. 

“Come on, honey,” Otto’s dad murmured to his wife. They slipped out of the room, leaving the boys to talk. 

“I know. I begged your parents to let me stay until you got back-”

“But they said no, I know. They told me. But you-”

“I was just gone” Awsten murmured.

Otto hesitated before he asked, “Did you… did you run away from school because of me?”

Awsten blinked and stepped back to look at him. “What?”

“Did you?”

Awsten opened and closed his mouth, not even sure how to respond. “What?” he repeated. “Otto, no. God, no. No. Never.” 

“It’s just, the last thing I did was yell at you-”

“Otto, _no_ ,” Awsten insisted again, firmer that time. “We talked at the lake, remember?”

“I just thought maybe afterwards you regretted it or something and you wanted to get away from me…”

Awsten shook his head.

Otto looked down at the floor, but Awsten said, “Hey,” and he looked back up. “Am I lying?” 

Otto read his face and softly answered, “No.”

“Right. So don’t blame yourself, okay? _I_ freaked out. _Me_. It’s not on you.”

He nodded and, wanting to change the subject, murmured, “Um, I have…” He reached into the pocket of his jeans and tugged out a piece of paper that had been folded into a tiny rectangle. Awsten could see color bleeding through it.

“What is that?”

Otto sighed. “Now, you can’t get upset.”

“What did you do?” Awsten asked warningly.

“Well, I had to leave school early to get here on time, so I may have, um. Told…”

“Alex,” Awsten sighed. 

“Yeah. I told him I was coming here, and he kind of told the whole school, so, um.”

Awsten sighed, covered his eyes, and groaned.

“I didn’t tell him you were in a group home or anything!” Otto rushed to explain. “I just told him I was going to see you. I kind of think he thinks you’re in the hospital or something. But anyway, I have like, three of these,” he said, holding the folded paper out to Awsten and then digging into his left pocket for the other two.

Awsten took it and opened it up. He was faced with several small and brightly colored paragraphs, which he briefly scanned. Maddie, Taylor, Cassadee, Chloe, Alex, and even Zack had all written him notes. Maddie’s was as bubbly as ever, with a little heart attached to the M on her signature. Taylor was kind, Zack was concise, and Cassadee was to the point. Chloe said that she missed him, and Alex wrote a note about hoping Awsten would be okay enough to return to school soon. 

“Uh, flip it over,” Otto muttered absently while he opened one of the other rectangles. 

_Miss seeing you every morning. Hope all is well.  
_ _Mr. W_

Awsten smiled. “This is so sweet,” he admitted.

They traded papers, and Otto said gently, “Yeah, sometimes it’s nice to let people know you’re struggling, isn’t it?” 

Awsten glanced at him, a soft look in his eyes. “Yeah, maybe…” 

Silence fell again as Awsten opened up the next makeshift card. This one had much, much more writing on it - all of band and Alex’s math class just had signed their names - and when Awsten had almost finished reading the signatures, Otto started to whisper.

“I tried calling you that first night, and your phone lit up on the nightstand, and I just… I fucking lost it,” he confessed. “My mom came in to try to talk to me about it again, but I wouldn't even look at her. I didn’t want to hear from her. I wanted to hear from _you_.”

“I wanted to call you,” Awsten told him. He set the paper down on top of his school books. “Like, a hundred times, but I’m… like you said, I wasn’t allowed to have my cell phone, and I don’t feel like I can ask to use the office phone. I think I’m still new, and it’s too soon. And honestly, I’m pretty sure they would have told me no.”

Otto nodded dejectedly. “I understand.”

“You’re not mad that I didn’t, right?” Awsten asked worriedly.

“Mad?” Otto echoed. “No, I wasn't mad. I was just…” He shrugged. “I just got used to having you around all the time, and to go from that to no contact at all was… well, it sucked. I miss driving to school with you and having you there at dinner and stuff.” He looked Awsten over. “But, um. You seem a lot better. Like, a lot.”

Awsten sheepishly smiled. “Sorry I was a mopey asshole.”

“Sorry I pushed for you to do stuff you weren’t ready for.”

“Like what?” Awsten asked, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion.

“I don’t know. Talking to me about stuff. Trying to get you to talk to me at all, really… you needed space, and I kept bugging you.”

“It’s okay.” His mind flashed to Lucas telling him that he didn’t need to tell people that things were okay, but Awsten truly meant it, so he repeated, “It’s okay.” 

Otto nodded and rested his chin on Awsten’s shoulder again. 

When they emerged from the school room a few moments later, they found Lucas, Ashton, and Travis all seated on the blue sofa across from Otto’s parents, who had taken up the maroon one. 

“…since they were five years old,” Otto’s mom was saying. “They met in their little Kindergarten class, and they were inseparable, even then. We-”

“Mom,” Awsten interrupted softly, and Otto’s parents turned. 

“Hey,” Otto’s dad smiled. “You guys good?”

They both nodded.

“We brought some things for you,” Otto’s mom said happily, motioning him over. She and her husband slid across to the end of the sofa so Awsten and Otto could both fit as well. They settled in, still side by side, and Otto’s mom lifted a sage green tote bag that Awsten hadn’t even realized she had. She passed it to him, and he peered in. 

“This is all for me?” he asked in surprise.

“I’m not going to make you, but do you gentlemen want to head upstairs?” Lucas quietly asked Ashton and Travis, but they shook their heads.

Awsten reached into the bag and pulled out a stack of clothes. His eyes zeroed in on a green t-shirt, which he tugged out of the middle of the pile. He blinked at it and turned to Otto. “This is your favorite shirt. I can’t take this.” 

“It’s not my favorite,” Otto lied.

“It is,” Awsten insisted, “and I can’t take it.”

“I want you to hold onto it. Just for now.” 

“No-”

“So I know you have to bring it home.”

Awsten paused and then nodded hesitantly. He looked back into the bag and saw a plate covered in several layers of saran wrap. “Are those…” he asked hopefully.

“I made them just for you,” Otto’s mom told him warmly.

“How did you know?” 

“Know what?”

“That they’re my favorite,” he said sheepishly. “I never told you.”

“Honey, you didn’t have to. I’ve always known,” she laughed. 

He lifted the plate of M&M brownies out and set them on his lap on top of the t-shirt, peering at them through the thick film.“Thank you,” he murmured reverently.” He looked to Lucas. “Can we all share them after dinner?”

“Oh, sweetheart, they’re for you,” Otto’s mom told him.

“I want to share them with everybody. If - if that’s okay.” 

“Told you,” Otto said quietly, looking at his parents with a smug smile.

“Of course it’s okay if that’s what you want,” Otto’s mom responded, choosing to ignore Otto’s comment. “There are twelve in there.”

He nodded.

“Are you sure, Awsten?” Lucas asked. 

The response was immediate. “I’m sure.” He’d been wanting to give back to all the boys somehow - for welcoming him and being kind and making him laugh when he didn’t even want to smile. And this was a way. At the moment, the dessert was all he had to give.

Lucas took the plate to the kitchen and slid it on top of the refrigerator. While he was gone, Awsten opened up a little book of some pictures. 

“I just had those lying around,” Otto’s dad noted gruffly. 

Awsten was quiet as he flipped through the pages. On the first page was a snapshot of Awsten and Otto when they were maybe six years old, wearing matching Christmas pajamas. On the next, Awsten had a big smile on his face and his arm happily around Otto at Otto’s Chuck-E-Cheese birthday party. A little paper crown was sitting crookedly atop Otto’s head. Awsten turned the page. The next photo was of Otto and Awsten sound asleep on opposite sides of the backseat of the car sometime during sophomore year. Awsten’s head was resting against the window, and Otto had his head propped up against his elbow. The fourth picture showed Awsten, who was in desperate need of a haircut, giving Otto a piggyback ride in the backyard the summer before eighth grade. He remembered running and spinning across the grass, Otto clinging tightly to his shoulders and laughing wildly. Awsten closed the book, wanting to save some of the memories for later.

At the very bottom of the bag was the new copy of AP Magazine, which Awsten pulled out and pressed to his chest, giving Otto a big smile. 

“As soon as I finished it, I put it in my backpack,” Otto mumbled. “I was gonna take it to school for you like always.”

“But you still got it to me,” Awsten pointed out, nudging him lightly with his elbow. “This is great,” he added, turning to Otto’s parents. “Thank you guys. Thank you so much, I… Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome,” they replied. 

Lucas strode back in. “Have you shown them the game room?”

“Um, no, not yet.” 

“Okay. It’s quiet time, so you guys can hang out in there, but please don’t make a lot of noise.”

“Kay,” Awsten nodded. He stood up, and he and the family put all the things back in the green tote bag before moving together to the game room. Otto went straight for the foosball table, batting the ball back and forth across the mini field.

“I can put on a movie,” Awsten suggested.

“That sounds great,” Otto’s mom nodded.

“The TV doesn’t work; it’s just a DVD player. And we only have Disney movies.” He motioned to the pile on the little shelf. “We watched Peter Pan the other day. Otto, they have The Lion King.”

“Yes,” Otto said firmly. “That one.”

Awsten laughed. “Okay.” He popped it in the DVD player, and when he turned around, Awsten’s parents were sitting on the left side of the couch, and Otto had taken a seat on the floor in front of the right side of the couch. Awsten took the spot on the sofa right behind Otto, but he soon grew tired, yawning a bit even as the music played on the screen.

Otto’s mom noticed and slipped her arm around his back. He closed his eyes and settled into her shoulder, and after a while, she guided him down so that his head was in her lap. She slowly stroked his hair, over and over, until he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer.

“Awsten,” a came gentle voice. “Awsten… wake up.”

Awsten opened his eyes, confused about why he was being told to wake up when he’d just closed his eyes for a second. “Wha…”

“You have to wake up, baby. It’s time for us to go.” 

The TV was off, the sky had already begun to change colors, and Otto’s mom was speaking softly to him. He pushed up on the sofa, a little embarrassed that he’d fallen asleep on her lap like a little kid. “Sorry,” he said quickly.

“No, honey, don’t be sorry. You looked like you needed it.” She studied his face, clearly concerned. “Are you sleeping enough?”

“Yeah, I’m just… yesterday was a long day, I guess. And we wake up really early - earlier than for school - and I’m not used to it.” He rubbed at his eyes. 

“Alright. Well, Lucas just let us know that it’s time for you and the other boys to start working on dinner.”

“Mmkay. I’m really sorry I fell asleep.”

“It’s okay,” Otto piped up. 

Awsten looked straight into his eyes for the first time since he’d gotten there - since the shooting, really - and he was suddenly hit with a pang of heartbreak. “I don’t want you to leave,” he pleaded. 

No one responded to the sad sentiment, but they did guide him to his feet. Otto’s mom smoothed his hair out and straightened his shirt, and Otto wrapped his hand around Awsten’s as they headed out of the game room and to the entry of the house. Otto’s dad set the tote bag by the door as the family said their goodbyes. 

“We talked to Lucas a minute ago, and he said we can come back next week,” Otto’s mom said. “Thursday, okay?”

“I won’t fall asleep,” Awsten promised, which made all three of the Woods smile. 

“It was great to see you, son,” Otto’s dad said, stepping forward for a hug. “Be good, alright? I love you.”

“I will. I love you, too, sir.”

He kissed Awsten atop the head and then let go, stepping back so his wife could have a turn.

“I’ll miss you so much, baby.” She held him close, running her hand over the back of his hair. “We thought you might call. If you get a chance, we’d love to hear from you, even if it’s just for a minute or you have to leave a message.”

He nodded. “Okay.”

“Enjoy your brownies, and let us know if you need anything. Anything at all, alright?”

“Alright. Thanks, Mom.” 

“You’re so welcome.” She kissed his cheek and hugged him again. “Oh, I love you.”

“I love you, too.” 

And then it was Otto’s turn.

Awsten tried to smile. “I wish you could stay.”

“I wish you could come home.” 

They stared at each other for a few seconds, and then each boy lunged toward the other, both wrapping their arms around each other as tightly as they could.

“I’ll miss you,” Otto choked.

Awsten squeezed his eyes shut. “I’ll miss you, too.” 

They stood in silence, each just holding the other, not wanting to let go. Finally, though, they did.

“Thanks for the magazine. And the clothes.”

“Yeah.”

“And tell Alex to stop blabbing my business around school,” Awsten chuckled.

Otto smiled through his sad eyes. “Yeah. I will.”

Awsten nodded. “I love you, dude.”

“I love you, too.”

One more quick hug for Otto’s mom and one more for Otto, and then the family was waving goodbye and disappearing into the driveway.

“Are you ready to start dinner?” Lucas asked as he locked the door behind them. “Travis and Jawn are already in the kitchen, and Ashton will be down any second.”

“Yeah,” Awsten tried to reply, but no sound came out. He quickly cleared his throat and rushed to say yes before his voice broke again. “Yeah. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Lucas nodded and headed toward the kitchen, leaving Awsten alone to press up against the glass and watch the car back down the driveway. He felt like it was taking his heart with it. As soon as it was out of sight, his stomach twisted uncomfortably, and he buried his face in his hands and let the fear and despair wash over him. His composure crumbled, and he dissolved into quiet tears. There was nothing he could do to stop them. 

“Awsten? Oh, no, Awsten…” 

Someone was jogging down the stairs toward him, but he couldn’t bear to look up, even to find out who was speaking. Before he knew it, he was wrapped in a strong hug. 

“I’m sorry. I know. I’m so sorry.” A warm hand began rubbing his back. It grounded and comforted him.

“ _Ashton!_ What do you think you’re doing?”

The hug abruptly ended, and Awsten immediately felt worse. He looked up from his hands to see Lucas holding a spatula and looking shocked. Once Lucas saw the tears rolling down Awsten’s cheeks, though, he seemed to relax a little.

“Ashton, go in the kitchen, please.”

Ashton silently obeyed, taking the spatula from Lucas as he passed. 

“Awsten, are you okay?” Lucas asked, coming closer.

Awsten sniffed hard and nodded, trying very hard to wipe all the water from his cheeks. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

“No, I just want to go with them.” 

“With the other gentlemen?”

“No, with my f- with them,” Awsten explained quietly, pointing out the window in the direction the car had gone. 

“Soon,” Lucas promised. 

Awsten nodded. 

“Take a minute to yourself. Do you want to go in the office and calm down?”

“No.”

“Okay. Go in the bathroom and clean yourself up, then,” he said gently. “Take your bag upstairs and drop it in your room, and wash your face. You can come help with dinner when you’re done.”

“Okay. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. You’re allowed to have feelings, Awsten,” Lucas reminded.

“It’s stupid to cry,” he snorted in response.

“No, it’s not.” Lucas paused, looking him over. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it? Zakk is here, too, if you don’t want to discuss it with me.”

Awsten nodded.

“Alright. Upstairs you go, then.” 

Awsten followed the directions, but he did pause on his way back down to pull his shirt off and tug Otto’s super soft Mountain Dew t-shirt over his head. When he walked into the kitchen, no one seemed to notice the change of clothes or his bloodshot eyes.

 

* * *

  
**Peace and Purpose Home for Young Men - Dining Room**  
** March 13, 6:02 PM**

“Jawn, it’s your turn to say grace.”

“Dear God, bless this food we’re about to receive. Amen.”

Lucas didn’t comment on the short, emotionless words, so no one else did, either. As they all picked up their forks and started twirling spaghetti around them, Lucas prompted, “Who wants to start high-lows? Ashton?”

“My high was meeting Awsten’s… the people that came to see Awsten. They were nice. And my low was also meeting them, too. For two reasons. One, it was hard because it made me really miss my family. And two, it was hard seeing how sad Awsten got when they left.”

Awsten gave him a sad smile. 

“I like that the same thing was both your high and your low,” Lucas mused.

Ashton nodded. “Yeah. Me, too.” He didn’t say anything else, so Lucas told Awsten that it was his turn.

“My high point was the Woods coming to see me. And my low point was watching them drive away.”

“I know it was hard when they left, but was it worth it getting to see them?”

“Of course,” Awsten nodded.

“I’m glad. They’re on the schedule for next Thursday, so you’ll see them soon,” Lucas told him warmly. “Travis?”

“Awsten’s mama gave me a hug!” Travis cried, and Awsten smiled.

“She’s _not_ his mom,” Jawn sneered.

“ _Jawn,”_ Lucas and Zakk cautioned at the same time.

Awsten raised his chin. “Yes, she is,” he countered defiantly.

“No, she’s not - she’s your friend’s mom. She’s not _your_ mom.”

“Doesn’t matter. She’s my mom, too.” Awsten knew he sounded like a child, but he couldn’t help it. He wasn’t about to just sit there and let this guy he hardly knew talk badly about the woman who had saved him not once but  _twice_ from going into the system, who had opened both her heart and her home to him, who had treated him with nothing but love and kindness.

“No, she’s not. Your _real_ mom hits you.”

Awsten’s eyes went wide.

“Jawn!” Lucas snapped. “Office. Now.”

Jawn sighed loudly, firing his napkin down onto the table. He shoved his chair back and stomped across the house. 

“Awsten, are you okay?” Zakk asked delicately.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he replied. And it was true. Aside from the little bit of stinging he felt that Jawn would divulge something so personal that Awsten had shared with him in secret, he knew that this afternoon had been challenging for Jawn. “Travis, you can finish.”

“My low point was making that happen,” Travis said sadly. “I’m real sorry.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Zakk told him, reaching across to jiggle his wrist. 

“Yeah, it’s okay,” Awsten agreed. “It wasn’t your fault.”

Ashton supplied, “Jawn’s just jealous.”

“Guys, let’s not talk about people who aren’t here, okay?” Zakk advised, but he didn’t counter Ashton’s point, which was a little surprising to Awsten. Awsten had been thinking that the experience would be painful since Jawn’s parents were dead, although it did make sense that he would say something like that because he was jealous. 

Jawn came back with Lucas a few minutes later and made a stiff and insincere apology. Awsten just nodded. He didn’t say it was okay.

 

* * *

 

 

_Where were they, then, if this was heaven?_

_Eddie studied this strange older woman. He felt more alone than ever. "Can I see Earth?" he whispered._

_She shook her head no._

_"Can I talk to God?"_

_"You can always do that."_

_He hesitated before asking the next question. "Can I go back?"_

_She squinted. "Back?"_

_"Yeah, back," Eddie said. "To my life. To that last day. Is there something I can do? Can I promise to be good? Can I promise to go to church all the time? Something?"_

_"Why?" She seemed amused._

_"Why?" Eddie repeated. He swiped at the snow that had no cold, with the bare hand that felt no moisture. "Why? Because this place don't make no sense to me. Because I don't feel like no angel, if that's what I'm supposed to feel like. Because I don't feel like I got it all figured out. I can't even remember my own death. I can't remember the accident. All I remember are these two little hands—this little girl I was trying to save, see? I was pulling her out of the way and I must've grabbed her hands and that's when I . . ." He shrugged._

_"Died?" the old woman said, smiling. "Passed away? Moved on? Met your Maker?”_

_"Died," he said, exhaling. "And that's all I remember. Then you, the others, all this. Ain't you supposed to have peace when you die?"_

_"You have peace," the old woman said, "when you make it with yourself."_

_"Nah," Eddie said, shaking his head. "Nah, you don't."_

 

* * *

 

 

** Peace and Purpose Home for Young Men - School Room  
March 13, 7:27 PM **

Once dinner was over, the M&M brownies had been devoured, cleanup was finished, and the boys were turned loose for some free time, Awsten disappeared into the school room to work some more on his math assignment. It would take all of his concentration, and he had begun feeling a little down, if he was honest. Otto’s family had left, and with time, Jawn’s comment had seeped under Awsten’s skin and buried itself there like some sort of mite. He needed something that could fully distract him from his thoughts. Math was challenging and annoying and slow and would require all of Awsten’s brain power, so that’s what he went with.  When he finally got through with it, he didn’t bother to check it. What he did instead was head for the office to find Lucas and ask, “Do you have any books I could read?”

“Did you finish the one for school?” Lucas inquired.

“No,” Awsten confessed, “but I’m way ahead of my class, and I don’t want to forget important stuff before the test.”

Lucas thought for a moment. “I think I have a few. Let’s see.” He motioned Awsten to follow him upstairs and into his room. Awsten had never been in Lucas’ room before. There were no decorations - no pictures or posters on the walls, no trinkets on the shelves, nothing. It was as bare as the boys’ rooms. 

Awsten walked over to look out the window while Lucas searched his closet. He was met with a view of the street. There was just an empty road, a burnt-out streetlamp, and some grass to look at, but Awsten thought that being able to see _some_ thing was better than being able too see nothing at all. 

“Here,” Lucas said, his eyes settling on the top shelf. “I’ve got Twilight and th-”

“Twilight?!” Awsten echoed with a laugh.

“Hey, don’t knock it til you try it,” Lucas retorted defensively. 

“Why do you even have that?”

“My sister,” he shrugged. “She was obsessed like ten years ago, and I started reading it so I could tell her how terrible it was. She told me I had to finish the whole thing before I could tell her how much I hated it, but I wound up actually getting into it. I’ve read the whole series.”

Awsten chuckled and then pointed into the closet “What’s the other book?”

“The Bible.”

Awsten sighed loudly. “I’ll take Twilight, I guess.”

Lucas smiled and pulled it off the shelf. “It’s all yours,” he declared, transferring it into Awsten’s hands.

“This is gonna suck,” he sighed. Then he looked up at Lucas with a sly smile and quirked an eyebrow. “Get it?” he intoned. “ _Suck?_ ”

Lucas let out a gentle laugh. “Yes, thank you. I got it. You’ll have to tell me what you think of it.” 

“Oh, I will,” Awsten nodded. “Thanks!” He turned and exited Lucas’ room and immediately noticed Jawn glaring at him from their doorway. Awsten looked at him as if to say, _what?_ But Jawn just rolled his eyes, huffed, and retreated back to his bed. 

Unbothered, Awsten jogged down the stairs and got comfortable on the blue couch, opening to the first page of Twilight. God, what was his life coming to?


	12. Do Not Disturb

** Peace and Purpose Home for Young Men - Jawn and Awsten's Room  
March 13, 11:42 PM **

Otto, somehow, was at Awsten’s side in the middle of the night. “Come on,” he whispered, and Awsten sat up in bed, startled. 

“What the hell are you doing back here?”

“I have to show you something. Come on.”

“Otto, wait - how did you get in here? Did Lucas let you in?”

“Come _on_ ,” Otto repeated. He snuck to the open doorway, past the place Jawn was breathing quietly on his pillow, and into the sliver of golden light on the landing. 

“Otto!” Awsten hissed.

Otto’s head popped back into sight. “Don’t make me tell you again. This is important, dude.” And then he was gone again.

Awsten shoved the covers off of his legs and adjusted his pajama bottoms on his hips as he jogged after his best friend. “Did you drive all the way out here?" Awsten asked, bewildered. "Isn’t it the middle of the night? Otto, you have school tomorrow. And - what did your mom and dad say? Or wait, did you sneak out?!”

Otto ignored all the questions and just headed silently down the stairs, not bothering to look back.

“Otto, where are we going?”

No answer. He walked straight for the front door, but Awsten paused between the couches. 

“I can’t leave.” 

Otto turned. “Why not? You said you wanted to be with me and my family, right?”

“Well, yeah, but-”

“So I'm busting you out of here." When Awsten didn't respond, Otto dropped a hand onto his hip. “What’s the problem?”

Awsten sighed, his shoulders drooping. “You said yourself I’m doing better.” He held his arms out to the sides. “Your parents were right to send me here. This is where I need to be.”

Otto stood still for several moments. And then, as if he were just seeing Awsten for the first time, he said, “Come on. I have to show you something.”

Awsten crossed his arms over his chest. “Otto, I’m not leaving.”

“You don’t have to leave. Just… come outside with me.” 

“I can’t!”

“Just step outside the door. You don’t have to go any further than that. Just the doorway.” Otto twisted the knob and pulled the door open. He walked out onto the front step. The sky was pitch black; not even the streetlamp was illuminated. “Come on.” 

Awsten looked at him suspiciously. 

“Don’t you trust me?” he asked, seeming a little frustrated and upset.

Awsten sighed. “Of course I do.” And with that, he stepped through the door into the cool morning air.

As soon as Awsten passed the threshold, it was if a switch had flipped. The sun was up, the grass sparkled with dew, and the world was completely silent and eerily still. 

Awsten gulped. He would know this place anywhere; the Lakeview High football field. His pulse immediately picked up its pace, and slowly, ever… so… slowly… he turned around. 

Gone were both the house and Awsten’s best friend; behind him instead, with a maniacal grin, stood Michael. His lips were purple and swollen, his eyes were unfocused and bloodshot, and his jaw was only half hinged. 

Awsten quickly backed up a step, but Michael moved forward, staying exactly the same distance in front of him.

“No,” Awsten choked. 

Michael began nodding. His smile slowly widened.

“No, no, no, no, no…” 

Michael nodded faster and faster. Blood started to trickle down from his nose, more black than red, and it dribbled over his mouth and down his chin.

“No! Stop, Michael, stop it… Please. Don’t make me do this again.” 

The second Awsten stopped speaking, Michael raised a gun. The barrel was pointed straight at Awsten’s chest. 

“No!” he cried again. “No, please, please…” 

Teasingly, Michael turned the gun on himself.

“No, Michael, please,” Awsten begged. Tears flooded his eyes. Not again. Not again. He couldn’t take it again.

Michael smiled, shrugged, and whipped the gun back around to face Awsten. 

“No! Will you - _stop!_ Will you stop? Please. You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to hurt anyone, okay? We can just go back inside and-”

Michael’s gaze slid to the side, but Awsten wasn’t about to fall for that trick.

“-talk about this, okay? Let’s go to class. Mr. W will know what to do; he can help. Or we can hang out, just you and me, okay? We can ditch. It’s fine. I won’t even tell anyone. Nobody has to know, Michael, I swear to god. I won’t say anything.” 

But Michael wasn’t listening. His entire focus was off to the side, on whatever he was staring at, and Awsten glanced over his shoulder to see what the hell was so important.

His stomach dropped.

On the edge of the field stood a row of people - Travis, Ashton, Mrs. Wood, Rian, Mr. W, and Otto. 

“Oh, no,” Awsten breathed, suddenly in ten times the panic. “Oh, fuck no. Michael, don’t. Don’t.”

Michael took a step toward them, curiously pointing the gun in this new, interesting direction.

“Michael!” Awsten cried. He flung himself in front of them, all the people that had been good and kind to him, planting himself in the bullet’s potential path. “Don’t do this! Please, I’ll do anything, okay, just don’t hurt them…”

Michael’s eyes snapped to Awsten’s, and he spoke for the first time. “You wouldn’t have done anything for me.”

“I would have,” Awsten pleaded. “I - I _tried_ , Michael, but you wouldn’t listen to me-”

“Bullshit,” Michael spat. “You didn’t even care.”

“I did! I _did_ , I-”

“You want to know what it felt like? Knowing that no one cared about me? Knowing that there wasn’t a single person in the world who would even notice if I disappeared forever?”

“We noticed, Michael, we all noticed," Awsten told him desperately. "School shut down after what happened-”

“I’ll show you.”

“No!” Awsten screamed, and he felt the sound scrape out of his throat.

“Awsten?” came a voice, and suddenly Jawn was there, too, and Lucas, and Emily, and Zakk, and Mr. Wood, and Alex, and-

Michael took several stumbling but purposeful steps toward them, rushed, uneven, and deranged.

“No!” Awsten cried again, trying to keep himself in front of Michael, but he was moving too quickly. Awsten couldn’t keep up.

“Awsten, what’s happening?” Jawn’s frightened voice inquired.

“It’s okay. I’ve got it,” Awsten promised. “I’ve got it. Nothing’s gonna happen.”

“Awsten?”

It was a female voice that time, just as afraid as Jawn.

“Emily,” Awsten murmured. “Stay back. It’s okay. He’s not gonna hurt you.”

But Michael was going to, and Awsten knew it in his soul. There was nothing he could do to stop it.

Mr. W’s clear blue eyes locked onto Awsten’s mismatched ones. Awsten could read the fear on his face, even from several yards away. 

“Awsten, I don’t like this,” Travis whimpered.

Awsten’s gaze shifted to him. “I know. It’s okay. It’s okay, everything’s gonna be okay…”

“Pick one,” Michael said. He’d stopped his chaotic limping and was standing beside Awsten as still as a statue, the weapon resting comfortably in his hands. 

“What?”

Michael used the gun to motion to the line of people Awsten cared about. “Pick one. I’m gonna kill them all, but I’ll let you pick who goes first.” Michael leaned into Awsten’s ear. His breath was hot and almost wet as he whispered, “Usually the first one to die has it the best. There’s not nearly so much… _anxiety_ that way. The more shots I fire, the crazier they’ll get. They’ll piss themselves. They’ll fucking panic.”

“No,” Awsten replied, aghast. 

“Well, somebody’s gotta be the first to go. You got ten seconds or I’m choosing for you.”

“No!” Awsten pleaded. “This is so fucked up, Michael, this is so fucked up…”

“Eight… seven… six…”

“Fuck!” Awsten cried.

“You’re not gonna pick, are you?” Michael realized. 

Awsten opened and closed his mouth, unsure of what the hell to say.

Michael adjusted his grip on the gun and lazily squeezed the trigger, absently moving the AR back and forth as if it were a garden hose. A spray of bullets flew out, and Awsten let out a loud scream. “STOP! STOP!” 

But it was too late. 

Awsten barely had time to blink before every single person that had been in the line was crumpled on the ground. Awsten sprinted forward to where Otto was, his white t-shirt soaked in crimson, and dropped to his knees in the thick puddle of blood.

“NO!” Awsten begged as he looked at Otto’s blank, open eyes. Frantically, he looked up toward the school. “NO - HELP! HELP! SOMEBODY HELP ME!”

“Awsten!”

“PLEASE HELP ME!”

Somebody was shaking Awsten, and he whirled around just in time to see Michael’s decomposing face up close. He could smell it rotting, see the blood congealing… 

With a terrorized shout, Awsten bolted up in bed, gagging. His eyes flew open, and, before he even knew where he was, he stumbled to his feet and blindly rushed sideways as if to physically get away from the dream. He only made it a few steps before his shoulder bumped into the wall. He sank to the ground in panicked tears.

“Awsten,” came a loud, worried voice. Firm hands caught him and pressed into the sides of his arms, and Awsten looked up. His ribs heaved with thick sobs, and he couldn’t hear anything over his ragged breaths. It was too dark, and his eyes were too full of tears. 

Michael could be anywhere - anywhere! He tried to scramble to his feet, but the hands pushed him firmly back to the ground. 

“Shh,” someone whispered. 

Suddenly, bright orange light flooded the room. Awsten blinked back the tears as he tried to clear the glare from his eyes. After a few seconds spent getting his bearings and trying to catch his breath, Lucas swam into focus, and Awsten realized he was in the group home. 

The first thing that Awsten became aware of was that his head ached. The next was that there was an immense amount of pressure on his chest. He drove the heel of his hand hard over his heart, but it didn’t seem to do much. 

As Awsten’s eyes adjusted and he looked around more of the room, he was able to process the fact that Jawn was watching him, terrified, from his bed and that everyone else had gathered in the doorway to stare at him.

“Help,” Awsten weakly sobbed, his confused and fearful gaze finally settling on Lucas. Tears continued to stream down his cheeks. 

“Shh,” Lucas whispered. Of course the counselor was as calm as ever. “It’s okay. It was a nightmare. Just a nightmare.”

“I - can’t breathe,” he gasped.

“I know. Just try to relax… It was just a dream.”

“No, it was real,” Awsten argued, his voice coming out too loudly. His lungs were so tight that breathing, however shallow the process may have been, had become sharp and painful.

“Okay, shh,” Lucas soothed. “Awsten, I promise it was just a dream. You were sleeping.”

Awsten ignored this and begged, “I want to go home.” He was still more asleep than awake, and reality wasn’t presenting itself correctly. Otto had _just_ been there. If he could do it again, could just get in the car with Otto and go back to Lakeview, back to the bunk beds, back to Alex and Mr. W and Mom, back to his lake… “I want to go home, I want to go home. I should have gone with him.”

“Shh,” Lucas hushed again. He squeezed and released Awsten’s shoulders several times, little rapid bursts of pressure that helped ground him. 

“I can’t breathe…”

“I know. But it’s okay. It’s okay, Awsten. Deep breaths. Try to relax. Shh...”

As Awsten worked to get air into his lungs, he closed his eyes and scrunched them up in an attempt to erase the image of Otto lying in a pool of chunky blood, his chest ripped open and as shredded as Michael’s skull had been last Wednesday morning. God, he could still smell Michael’s rotting skin… He let out a quiet whimper.

“Let’s go downstairs,” Lucas murmured, reaching for Awsten’s elbows.

“No,” he pleaded, twisting out of reach.

“I’ll give you a minute, but then we’re going," Lucas said kindly, but he left no room for argument.

Awsten looked up at the sound of footsteps; Jawn was crossing the room with Oliver in his grasp. Jawn only had on boxers and an undershirt, but it seemed that in that moment, his modesty took a backseat to getting Awsten his comfort object. 

Awsten desperately grabbed the little frog away from Jawn and pressed it to his face, breathing it in. Jawn turned around and walked back to the dresser, and a few seconds later, he was approaching Awsten again, leaning down with something else - an oversized sweatshirt.

“Jawn,” Lucas cautioned.

The boy ignored the warning and draped the navy fabric over Awsten’s shoulders. 

“Th-thanks,” Awsten whispered, wrapping Mr. W’s jacket closer around himself and sloppily pushing his arms into the sleeves.

Jawn nodded. He retreated to his corner of the room, where he climbed back into his bed but remained sitting up, anxiously watching the scene in front of him.

Awsten, who was still having an immensely difficult time trying to catch his breath, messily wiped some tears off his cheeks and ran the back of his hand under his nose. He began to shiver as well, although he wasn’t cold.

“Let’s go downstairs,” Lucas repeated, firmer that time. He wrapped one arm behind Awsten’s trembling back and hooked his other hand around Awsten’s forearm to help him stand. “Zakk, get them back in bed, please,” Lucas instructed. 

“But-” Ashton began, but Lucas cut him off.

“He’ll be fine. Go back to sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Okay,” Ashton murmured.

“I’m s-sorry,” Awsten apologized as Lucas led him past the group. He knew he’d roused all of them and likely frightened all of them as well. His throat hurt from screaming; that couldn’t been a nice wake-up call.

“No,” Zakk said, shaking his head. “Don’t be sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Ashton agreed, and Travis offered, “I’m just glad you wasn’t getting attacked.” 

Awsten tried to smile, but he was still shaking and sort of crying. Lucas stayed by his side as they travelled carefully down the stairs. They went together into the office, where Awsten, for the first time since he’d gotten to Peace and Purpose, took a seat on the couch. He set Oliver on his lap, slipped his hands up into the arms of Mr. W’s college sweatshirt, and balled the cuffs up in his palms. Then he used the side of the sleeve to dry his eyes and cheeks. 

“Do you want to talk about your dream?” Lucas asked once the door was closed and the light was on. He passed Awsten a box of tissues, which Awsten set on his leg beside the frog.

Awsten shook his head in response but pulled one of the Kleenex out of the box and softly blew his nose. Then he took another one and used it to wipe his face again. 

“You sure? It usually helps.” 

Awsten didn’t reply. He didn’t want to let Lucas in, and he wanted to forget the dream, but mostly he wanted to fucking calm down.

Lucas combed his fingers through his own long, blonde hair, trying to tame it. He’d clearly been asleep; his gauges were out, he had black, plastic-rimmed glasses sitting on his nose, and his heather gray t-shirt was wrinkled.

Awsten’s guilt grew.

The air conditioner sputtered and shut off, and the sudden silence that followed felt overwhelmingly loud. Awsten lifted Oliver to his chest and drew his knees up to his chin so he could rest his forehead against them. 

“Do you want to write about it?” Lucas suggested as Awsten trembled on the sofa. “Or you could even draw it.” 

The sand tray from therapy flickered into Awsten’s mind. That would have been the easiest way to explain the images his brain had conjured up, but that wasn’t a choice at the moment. Without looking up, Awsten shook his head. It was better not to say anything at all.

“I’d like you to talk to Rian about it when you see him tomorrow if you feel comfortable,” Lucas stated. 

“Kay.” 

He nodded, only seeming half-convinced. He echoed, “Okay.”

They sat quietly for a few minutes, with Awsten’s heart rate slowly returning to normal and Lucas just offering his patient presence. 

“I… I can’t call my f-family, can I?” Awsten finally asked.

The corners of Lucas’ lips simultaneously pulled in different directions, one up and one down. “It’s the middle of the night.”

Awsten nodded in understanding. “Um, can I go back upstairs, then?” 

“You already feel prepared for that?”

“Uh-huh.”

“And you’re sure you don’t want to talk about it?” 

“I’m sure.”

Lucas nodded. “Alright, then. You want me to walk up with you?”

Awsten shook his head.

“Alright,” Lucas repeated. “I’ll be down here for a little bit, and then I’ll be back upstairs if you need me.” 

Awsten nodded again. “Okay.” 

"Get some rest."

"Mm-hmm."

Getting off the couch, for some reason, felt difficult. His body was heavy, like his limbs had been filled with buckets of thick, wet sand, and he had to drag them up to stand. He paused in the doorway, still hugging Oliver like his life depended on it. “I’m really sorry,” he told Lucas softly. 

Lucas turned in his chair. “Awsten… You know you didn’t do anything wrong, don’t you?”

Awsten looked away. “…I guess.”

“You did nothing wrong,” Lucas assured. “You’ve been through two massive traumas, and things like this are - well, honestly, I’m surprised that the effects took this long to manifest themselves.”

Awsten blinked. He hadn’t been expecting Lucas to respond that way.

“I’ve been,” he continued, “anticipating some sort of outburst from you, because I know you’ve been pushing away your experiences. But once you start to work with what you’ve been through, you’ll start to feel better. I promise.”

“What if I don’t want to work with it?” Awsten whispered. 

Lucas smiled sadly. “Then this will keep happening,” he answered truthfully, “and it’ll keep getting worse.”

Awsten let the information sink in for several seconds. 

Lucas studied him, waiting for him to say something or ask another question, but he didn’t. He just murmured, “Goodnight,” and disappeared out the door. As he climbed the stairs with Oliver tucked under his left arm, he nestled his hand into the right pocket of the sweatshirt. He felt a thin scrap of paper against his skin, though, so he pulled it out. Before he even opened it, he remembered what it was. He closed his hand around it in a loose fist.

“You good?” Jawn asked groggily as Awsten walked back into the room. The light was off again.

“Fine.”

“Mmkay,” Jawn yawned.

Awsten shed the sweatshirt and climbed back under the covers of his bed. He was wide awake, and he had absolutely no intentions of going back to sleep, but there was no door on his room, so he’d have to wait to do what he wanted to do.

Just as he’d said, Lucas stayed downstairs for six or seven minutes before quietly making his way up to the second floor. He knocked almost silently on Zakk’s door (Awsten would have missed it had he not been listening so closely). Zakk must have opened the door, because it closed again a moment later.

Awsten hopped out of bed and rushed to the wall, pressing his ear against the paint to try to hear what they were saying, but all that made it through were hushed murmurs - no clear words. When he heard footsteps moving toward the bedroom door, he sprang back underneath the covers and yanked them up to his chest. He shut his eyes and tried, despite his furiously beating heart, to breathe slowly. 

Lucas paused in the doorway to Awsten and Jawn’s room, undoubtedly checking to see whether Awsten was alright and had fallen back asleep. He stayed there for several seconds, so long that Awsten almost peeked to see what was going on, but eventually, he moved on, slipping back into his own bedroom. He left the door cracked open, which was unusual, but within thirty seconds, his lamp clicked off.

Awsten glanced over at Jawn, who was passed out with his mouth partially open, before he reached under his bed. He felt around until his fingers brushed the mini flashlight he’d hidden there after bible study the night before, and then he clicked the light on and unfolded the newspaper clipping he’d rediscovered in his pocket. 

_Single Death In Lakeview High School Shooting_ , Awsten read again. He shined the beam over the grainy photograph and grew instantly glad that his face was hidden in Mr. W’s chest. He didn’t want to see how distressed he must have looked. That moment, unlike most of the others, had faded into snapshots. He’d thrown everything out but the memories of _safe, safe, safe_. He had no desire to remember the seconds in between.

 

_What started out as a normal morning at Lakeview High School in Lakeview, Texas turned out to be a day that would change the lives of students, teachers, and the community forever. One of Lakeview’s enrolled seniors brought a gun to campus, intending to end the lives of many but ultimately only ending his own._

_The Lakeview Sheriff’s Department was alerted at 7:59 AM on Wednesday that an eighteen year old male student whom we have elected not to name was on his way to the local high school with an assault rifle. That morning, the student left a suicide note on the kitchen table for his aunt and cousin to find, which detailed his plans to carry out a mass school shooting. His family immediately notified authorities, which was crucial in stopping a larger tragedy from occurring._

_Lakeview High School went into lockdown at approximately 8:02 AM and remained that way until police declared the scene safe at about 8:30. The school dismissed classes as soon as the law enforcement officers present were confident that there was no longer a threat. Students flooded the courtyard, searching frantically for their parents and siblings. They seemed to have no idea what had taken place on their own campus._

_“We didn’t know what was going on,” a Lakeview sophomore told us. "The phone rang, and they locked the doors, and no one told us anything. Not even my teacher knew what was happening. I’ve never been so scared in my whole life.”_

_It wasn’t just the students that were afraid. We spoke to a teacher who asked to remain anonymous that explained, “You prepare for this a hundred times, but it’s nothing like when it actually happens. Nothing -_ nothing _\- can get you ready for this. During the drills, we know there’s no threat. But knowing there’s a student wandering the halls with a gun is paralyzing.”_

_And, of course, getting that red alert from the school is every parent’s worst nightmare. “My husband and I got here as soon as we could,” said Jill Vertes, whose daughters Ryleigh and Charlotte both attend Lakeview High. “We never thought this would happen here - not in Lakeview. It’s such a [Continued on page 14C]_

 

Awsten blinked at the abrupt ending. “No,” he hissed. He rushed to flip the page over and shine the flashlight on it, but after staring at the words for a second, he realized that he was reading some recipe for pineapple upside down cake. “ _Fuck_.” 

He folded the clipping back up and stashed it under his bed where the flashlight had been. Then he got out from under the comforter and, as quietly as possible, snuck across the room where he’d set the bag of things from Otto and his family. He pushed the contents around inside until he found the AP magazine with Twenty One Pilots on the cover, and he sat down on the floor with his back against the wall. He stuck the end of the flashlight in his mouth while he opened it up and began to read.

 

* * *

**Peace and Purpose Home for Young Men - Jawn and Awsten's Room**  
**March 14, 6:30 AM**

“Good morning, gentlemen!” Lucas’ sunny voice declared from the other side of the landing. “Rise and shine!”

Awsten didn’t even wait for Lucas to get past the staircase before he leapt off his already-made bed, rushed into the shower room, and cranked the dial to turn the hot water on. As soon as it had warmed up, he wiggled out of his pajamas, dumping them into a pile on the floor, and hopped under the spray.  He was washing his hair with that goddamned fruit shampoo when there was a knock at the door. 

“Awsten? You doing alright?” Lucas inquired.

“Yep!” Awsten chirped.

“Okay. Breakfast in ten.”

“Yep!” he exclaimed again.

At Peace and Purpose, Awsten was usually the in-and-out type in the shower, but that morning, he took his time - although he was sure not to take _too_ long in case he accidentally revived the dead eight-minute rule. When he got out, it was barely 6:39. Whew. He dried off and got dressed in the clothes he’d already set out, and since his bed was already made, he jogged down the steps, desperate for a change of scenery. He’d been staring at the four walls of his bedroom all fucking night. 

“What can I help with?” he asked brightly as he strode into the kitchen.

“You seem chipper,” Lucas commented. Awsten didn’t reply, so Lucas directed, “Grab the cereal off the top shelf, please.”

“You got it.” Awsten set the three containers out on the counter, taking a moment to display them with the front of their boxes facing out. He adjusted the corners until they were perfectly straight and all pressed side to side. “Done!” 

“Okay. Come help me peel these oranges.” 

Awsten darted to the other side of the counter and snatched an orange off of the cutting board Lucas had set out. He dug his thumb through the thick outer skin of the orange and wrenched it back, revealing the squishy, juicy fruit underneath. “Hey, I can take the peel off in one piece,” he told Lucas. “You wanna see?”

Lucas glanced over. “Sure.” 

Awsten did, his tongue planted between his teeth as he focused. When he finished, he proudly waved the rind around in the air, and Lucas smiled. 

“Cool. You’re feeling better this morning, aren’t you?”

On the one hand, he felt a lot more like himself than he had in a long time. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d shown off in front of someone, when that was usually an everyday occurrence. But on the other hand, Awsten was about seven hours short on sleep. He supposed it was the boredom that had propelled him back to his normal self. “Yeah, I guess. Why?”

“You seem different.” 

“Not a sullen bitch?” Awsten chuckled, but as soon as the word left his mouth, his eyes went wide. “Shit, sorry. I mean - sorry!”

Lucas let out a quiet, amused sigh. “None of that here.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” 

Lucas nodded.

Awsten swayed dramatically from left to right. “Sooooo, what are we doing today?”

“Well, it’s Friday, so-”

“Friday!” Awsten interjected. “The best day of the week.”

Lucas laughed. “I’m partial to Saturday,” he admitted.

“Why?”

“We do something fun in the afternoon. And I get to see some friends.” 

“What’s the ‘something fun’?”

“Hmm, do you want me to tell you, or should we wait and see?”

“I wanna know now,” Awsten told him. But before Lucas could reply, Ashton came in and cheered when he saw the box of off-brand Cheerios on the counter. 

All four of the boys had seconds on their cereal, and in the morning meeting, it was announced that Lucas would drive Awsten back to Lakeview for therapy halfway through school. When they returned, Zakk's twenty-four hours off would begin.

School, frankly, sucked. Brendon told him that he couldn’t put off physics any longer, and Jawn shot him a brief look of sympathy before turning back to his own work. 

Brendon was helpful, but Awsten still found himself chewing on the nails of his left hand while he tried to concentrate. He was beginning to understand why Jawn had flipped his shit over his physics test earlier that week when Lucas knocked on the doorframe and told him it was time to leave for therapy. 

The trip in the van was a little awkward, but Lucas turned on the radio. It was some cheesy contemporary Christian nonsense, so Awsten stared out the window and tried to tune it out. Lucas was singing under his breath, though, and the longer they drove, the more into it Lucas got. Awsten was amused but pretended not to pay attention. When Lucas started using the steering wheel as a drum, though, Awsten finally turned to him and smiled. 

Lucas laughed and said, “Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine… It's funny.” 

“Do you like music?”

“A lot,” Awsten nodded.

“What do you listen to?”

Awsten pointed at the radio. “Music they can’t play on there.” 

Lucas laughed again, a bright sound. He brushed his hair back from his face. 

“Jawn says you like a band called Skillet?” Awsten inquired.

“They’re only my favorite band of all time,” Lucas responded casually, and he pressed a button on the stereo. 

Suddenly, the car was filled with [exponentially clearer music](https://youtu.be/h6863vjJ9Ds). Awsten’s eyes widened. This didn’t sound anything like the corny stuff that had just been coming through the speakers. This was a raspy voice singing on top of heavy electric guitar and crisp drums - genuine rock music. It truly sounded like the songs Awsten listened to. Maybe this song was even a little more intense. 

“Wow,” he said at the end of the first chorus. 

“Good wow or bad wow?” 

“Uh, good, I think.” 

“Different, huh? Lucas asked knowingly.

“Yeah. I didn’t know they made stuff like this.” 

Lucas nodded. “A lot of people don’t. But not everyone can rock out to hymns.”

Awsten chuckled at the image.

“There are people who can! I’ve seen it, but just a few times. This is more my speed, though.” 

Awsten nodded. “Me, too.” 

Lucas smiled at him.

 

* * *

 

 

 **Petekey Memorial Hospital**  
**March 14, 11:11 AM**

“So tell me about the home. What do you think?”

“It’s… good, I guess.” Awsten played absently with one of the tassels on the pillow he’d placed in his lap.

“Good!”  
  
“Yeah. Lucas is nice.”

“How’s your roommate?” 

Awsten looked away from the twinkling Christmas lights and over at Rian. “Okay, I think.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. He freaked me out once, and he was kinda mean once, but that was my fault. Other than that, he seems okay.” 

“What do you mean, it was your fault?”

Awsten shrugged. “Um, well, Otto’s family came to visit me, and I think Jawn got a little jealous. His parents died in a car accident or something, and it was probably hard to see me with… well, with a family. I don’t know. He’s really touchy about that kind of stuff. So during dinner, one of the other guys called Otto’s mom ‘Awsten’s mom,’ and Jawn was like, ‘she’s not Awsten’s mom’ and I said she was - cause she is, you know? - and he was like, ‘no, your _real_ mom hits you.’”

Rian let a displeased expression cross his face. “And what did you say?”

“Nothing. Lucas took him out of the room right away. I didn’t even have time to respond.”

“Hmm. I imagine you’re right that things were difficult for him, if that’s the case,” Rian acknowledged, “but it isn’t your fault, Awsten. Had you stolen something from him, or intentionally broken something of his, or even said something along the lines of what he said to you, it would be a different story. But you’re existing, you’re just doing your thing, so there’s nothing to feel guilty about.”

“But I have things that he doesn’t,” Awsten protested.

“Okay. What should you do about that?”

Awsten looked away. “I don’t know. Hide it?”

Rian gave him a small smile. “I’d advise you against that.”

“Why?”

“Well, if you spend your whole life trying to accommodate other people so that you don’t hurt their feelings, it’s going to be very difficult. First, because it’s impossible to be successful at it a hundred percent of the time. Unless - do you read minds?”

Awsten’s thoughts flashed to Edward Cullen and the dumb Twilight book he’d been reading while he waited for the sun to come up. It wasn't that good, but it was entertaining enough. Awsten did think Bella was awfully boring, though. He much preferred Lennie and George from Of Mice and Men, or even Eddie, the grouchy old man from The Five People You Meet In Heaven.

He shook his head, smiling a little at Rian’s teasing.

“The other thing to consider is that you’re a person, too, Awsten. And you’re allowed to be happy.”

“Yeah,” Awsten muttered as he cast his eyes down.

Rian let that sit for a moment before prompting, “What happened with Jawn that freaked you out?” 

“He got mad on Wednesday while we were having school. He started yelling. We had to leave while Lucas… fixed it.” 

“You had to leave?” Rian repeated, his eyebrows raised.

“I mean. We stayed in the school room for a while and kept doing school, but we left with Zakk a while after. Like, earlier than we were supposed to, and it wasn’t planned. Jawn stayed at the house with Lucas.”

“Hm. What was Jawn mad about?” 

“He got a question wrong. He had a test coming up, so.”

"He was that angry over studying?"

"Uh-huh."

Rian nodded thoughtfully. 

On the couch, Awsten shifted and began to fiddle with his fingers.

“How are you feeling?” Rian inquired. “Just in general.”

Awsten paused as he took emotional inventory. His eyebrows rose in surprise. “Better, actually.” 

“Tell me more.”

“Well, not being home is good,” he admitted, looking down at his hands.

“Why?”

“My parents.”

Rian suddenly seemed to grow uncomfortable, which was something Awsten had never seen before. “What about your parents?”

“I’m not with them, so I’m not worried about what they’re gonna do. Most of the time, they didn’t do _anything_ , but there was always a chance, I guess. And I like the whole having-a-tutor thing. Math and physics still suck, but I can go at my pace instead of the teacher’s. Sometimes they go too fast, and sometimes they go too slow, you know? But now I can do it how I want to. And I actually kind of like having chores. And making dinner and stuff.”

“That all sounds really good,” Rian smiled. “What kind of chores do you do?”

“Well, we have to make our beds every morning. I like that. And I like when we have to clean stuff up. My favorite thing is the chart on the refrigerator that tells us what we have to do for making food. So like, somebody will have to get everything out - like, pans and water and spices and stuff. And somebody else has to turn the oven on and cut up carrots and fill everybody’s glass up with water. Stuff like that. I know it sounds weird, but I really do like it.”

“It’s not weird. It’s responsibility.” 

Awsten tilted his head.

“Has anyone ever given you responsibility before? A job that's yours to do or something that you take care of?” 

Awsten thought for a moment and then shook his head. 

“It’s good for you. It’s structure, and it gives you a purpose. Not only can you look at the list and see what you’ve achieved, but you also know what to expect - and what’s expected of you.” 

“Yeah,” Awsten replied, astonished. Rian was right.

“That’s great, Awsten. I’m glad you like it.” Rian licked his lips and asked, “Is there anything else you want to talk about?”

“Um, Lucas wanted me to tell you about something…”

“Do _you_ want to tell me about it?”

“Not really.”

“Then you don’t have to.” 

“I know, but I should. Um, I… I’ve been having nightmares since - well, forever, but not like this. I mean everybody gets them sometimes, right?”

Rian nodded. “Yes. A few nightmares a month are normal, especially if there’s a stressor involved.”

“Well, I have them every time I sleep.”

Rian started writing on his notepad. “Are they usually about the same thing, or does the topic vary?”

“They’re different every time, but they’re always about… um, what happened at school.”

Rian nodded.

“But last night I woke up screaming.”

“Oh, Awsten,” Rian said softly, looking up from his paper. 

“I kind of woke the whole house up,” Awsten confessed, laughing awkwardly. “They were all standing in the doorway, and Lucas had to shake me awake, and it was… My throat hurt for hours after cause I was yelling so much.” 

“It was what?” 

“What?”

“You said, ‘It was,’ and then you stopped talking. I wanted to hear the end of that sentence. It was what?”

“Oh. Um, it was kind of awful. I felt really bad, cause I know I had to have been screaming, ‘help, help!’ And I know if I woke up to one of the other guys yelling for help, I’d be scared shitless.”

“Were you thinking about that as soon as you woke up?” Rian asked curiously.

“Yeah. Well - it took a second, since I didn’t know where I was or what was happening. But when I noticed them, yeah, I thought about it right away.”

Rian made another note, this one longer. “Why were you calling for help?”

“Can I show you in the sand tray?” Awsten asked, and Rian looked surprised at the request, but he nodded. He brought everything over, and Awsten sat on the carpet and began crafting the opening scene from his nightmare. Rian took a seat across from him on the ground.

“The dream started with Otto waking me up at the group home in the middle of the night,” he said softly, “so I thought I was awake and everything after was real.” He picked out a miniature Lego person to represent Otto and then located the same little dog he’d used before to symbolize himself. He walked them together down an imaginary staircase. “He wanted me to go outside with him, which I thought was weird, cause when he’d come to visit that day, he was telling me I seemed a lot better now that I’m at Peace and Purpose.” 

“Otto said that in real life?”

“Uh-huh.”

Rian jotted something else down.

“Um, so, he wanted me to go outside, like I said, but I told him no. I said I didn’t want to leave.” He set the toys in the sand while he explained, “Part of me did, but I mostly felt like I didn’t want to scare Lucas and Zakk if they woke up and I was gone. They’ve been nice to me, and I wouldn’t do that to them. I know it’s their job to, like, keep us safe and know where we are and stuff.” He picked the Lego person and the dog back up. “But Otto kept telling me to go with him, and he was like, ‘don’t you trust me?’ or something, and I was like-” He demonstrated a dramatic sigh and made the dog trail after the Lego. “So I followed him out the door, even though it was night. And then…” 

He set the Otto Lego aside, put the dog alone in the middle of the box, and rested his chin in his hand, letting the image speak for itself. 

“Otto… was gone?” Rian clarified.

“Yeah.”

“You were alone.”

“Right. And it was daytime all of a sudden, even though it had just been night. The sun was up, and I was at the football field at school, but it was like… cold. And so fucking quiet that I knew right away that something was off.” He looked up at Rian. “You know when you’re, like, dreaming and you kind of know what’s coming before it happens?”

“I think so.”

“It was like that. I turned around, and Michael was standing behind me. He was all bloody and gross.” He looked in the pile and brushed his hand through it but couldn’t find what he was searching for. “Do you have that big cat?”

Rian turned to his desk, quickly scanning it. “Yeah - here.” He got up and passed it to Awsten, who thanked him and set it in the center of the sand tray, facing the dog down again.

“Is that Michael?” Rian asked when it became clear that Awsten had no plans to explain.

“Uh-huh.”

Rian looked Awsten over, making sure he seemed alright. “What happened next?”

“We talked.”

“What did you talk about?”

Awsten shifted in discomfort. “Um, he said I didn’t care about him. That nobody did. And I was trying to tell him that we did, but he wouldn’t listen. He just kept waving his gun around.”

“He had a gun?”

Awsten nodded. “Yeah, and I told him to stop pointing it at me, so he’d point it at himself, and when I told him to stop doing that, he’d point it at me again. But then he realized that there were a bunch of people standing at the end of the field.” 

“Did you know the people?”

Awsten nodded and paused, remembering the bullet Michael had planted squarely into Otto’s heart. He rubbed his hands hard over his knees. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” he murmured.

“Okay,” Rian nodded. “Thank you for telling me about the beginning.” 

“You can probably figure out what happened,” Awsten noted. 

Rian didn’t respond for a moment. Then, thoughtfully, he proposed, “What would have been a good ending to the dream?” Awsten didn’t say anything, so Rian rephrased, “Is there a way the dream could have finished so that you would have woken up feeling better about what happened with Michael rather than worse?”

Awsten contemplated. Rian patiently waited for him.

“If he didn’t have the gun,” Awsten said slowly, “and no one else was there. Then I could have talked to him without being so scared of what he was gonna do.”

“If you could speak to him in the dream again, what would you say?”

“That he didn’t have to hurt anyone. That he was a fucking asshole for doing what he did. Not just what he wanted to do, which is, like, one of the worst things someone could do, but for what he did to me, too.” Awsten looked down at the pillow in his grip as he made the admission. It was the first time he’d confessed that Michael’s actions had made a profound impact on his life. 

“It was very unfair,” Rian said softly.

Awsten nodded. He felt like crying, but he quickly shut that down. His face hardened. “Can we talk about something else now?”

“Sure. Hmm, why don’t you tell me more about Otto and his family coming to visit?”

Awsten nodded. Several minutes later, he had perked up considerably. He finished talking about how Travis had never tried a brownie before the previous night’s dinner and how even Jawn hadn’t been able to stifle a laugh at the wildly excited look in Travis’ eyes after he got his first taste. 

“That’s awesome,” Rian chuckled.

“Yeah.”

There was a bit of silence, and then Rian quietly cleared his throat and set his clipboard to the side. “I’m afraid I have some news for you.”

Awsten looked down, suddenly closed off again. He fiddled with his thumbnail. 

“Were you aware that your parents’ sentencing was yesterday?”

Awsten gave Rian a blank look for several seconds and then shook his head. 

“I’d like to tell you what happened, if that’s alright with you.”

“Okay.”

“Your father was given several months in prison.”

Awsten felt guilty; his father being in trouble was all Awsten’s fault. But he still let out a soft sigh of relief. Having his dad locked up would buy Awsten time to figure out how to stay the hell away from him once he got out. He’d be eighteen then, anyway. 

“He’ll be awarded time served for the last two weeks, but they’ll keep him in Galveston. And your mother…” He sighed. “Your mother was ordered to pay a fine, but she was released. She wasn’t given any time.”

Awsten nodded. He’d been trying not to think too much about what had been going on with his parents, and being so busy getting acquainted with his new life at the group home had been an effective distraction. But having a definitive answer about their fate now - especially knowing that his father was behind bars - comforted him in a twisted way. The relief and the guilt were evenly matched. “Okay,” he exhaled.

“There’s something else,” Rian warned. “Otto’s mother called me this morning; she asked if she could come see you and share the news herself.”

“What’s wrong?” Awsten asked, immediately tense. “What’s wrong, is Otto okay?”

“Otto is fine,” Rian replied calmly. “It’s-”

“What about Otto’s dad? Is he okay?”

“The Wood family is fine, Awsten.”

“Where is she?”

“She’s here. Did you want to see her?”

“Yeah.”

Rian nodded. He went to the door and opened it, looking about halfway down the hall. “Hey. Come on back.”

“Did you tell him?” came Otto’s mom’s voice.

“No, not yet.” 

She walked into the room, and Awsten was hit with mixed feelings. On the one hand, he was happy to see her. On the other, he was nervous. She wasn’t supposed to be there, but she was anyway, and she looked distressed. 

“Baby,” she said, her voice full of emotion. She sank down onto the couch beside him and wrapped him up in her arms. 

He leaned into her, allowing himself to be held even though he didn’t know what was the matter. “What’s wrong?” he asked quietly. 

As she sat up straight, she brushed his hair back from his forehead. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry… I never wanted to be the one to tell you this, but I didn’t want you to hear it from anyone else, either.”

Awsten watched as Rian leaned forward and set a box of tissues beside Otto’s mom, anticipating the need for them, Awsten supposed. He blinked at Mrs. Wood, waiting for whatever she had to say.

She reached down to take both of his hands. “Awsten, the police found your mom this morning.”

He swallowed. The police? His mom? What did that mean, that they ‘found’ her?

“She ended her life last night.”

Awsten just stared and stared. Otto’s mom was still talking, but he was so thoroughly shocked that it was as if the world had gone silent. Finally, he murmured one word. “Oh.” 

Otto’s mom’s mouth stopped moving, and Awsten glanced at Rian. They were both looking at him as though they were waiting for him to burst into tears. Instead, he cracked a small smile. “That wasn’t what I was expecting,” he confessed. “How did she do it?”

“Um,” Otto’s mom murmured, looking to Rian for direction. 

The therapist held out a hand, giving her permission to answer. 

“She…” She swallowed and forced the words out. “She jumped off the roof of a parking garage.”

Awsten almost laughed. Who knew his mom had balls?

“Do you want to talk about it?” Rian asked.

He shook his head. “I’m okay. Honestly.” He turned back to Otto’s mom. “I thought something happened to one of you guys.” 

“ _Honey_ ,” she said softly. 

He just shrugged. “She was never a mom to me. Not like you were. _Are_.” Then he looked at her, a strange look crossing his face. “Wait, is it still okay if I call you Mom?”

“Awsten, I know this is a shock,” Rian began carefully, “and suicide is-”

“No, it’s better this way,” Awsten promised. “It’s - it’s _so_ much better this way.” There was a painfully awkward pause, so Awsten asked, “Does Lucas know?” 

“No. Well - I haven’t told him,” Rian noted, looking to Otto's mom, who added,  “Neither have I.”

“Good. Please don’t.” Awsten returned his full focus to Otto’s mom. “How’s Otto? Was he okay after you guys left?”

She ran a cool hand down from his forehead to his cheek and cupped a hand around his chin. “Baby, are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah. My parents were never my family. You don’t have to worry about me.”

She shook her head, tears in her eyes. “I always worry about you.”

“Mom,” Awsten assured warmly, “I’m fine. It’s fine.”

Her lips twisted, and she began to cry. “You shouldn’t have to deal with this! You don’t deserve any of these messes. They’re not yours to clean up, and you’re so young, and… This, what your mother did - it’s another huge heartbreak on your plate, and I don’t know what your breaking point is. I already don’t know how you get through the day.” 

Awsten leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her. It wasn’t a huge heartbreak; it wasn’t even a small heartbreak. His heart hadn’t broken at all. But it might if he had to keep listening to her sobbing because of him. “Don’t cry,” he softly begged.

She held him closer. “What can I do? How can I help?”

“Just don’t tell Otto.”

“We haven’t.”

“Don’t. I don’t want anyone to know, okay? Because trust me, this isn’t a big deal. If something had happened to _you,_ though… that would be really different.”

She kept holding him as she wiped her cheeks. “You are so brave, Awsten,” she whispered, “but you don’t have to be. You know that, right?”

“You were with me after Michael,” he muttered. “You know that sometimes I’m not.” 

“Sweetheart, you didn’t even cry. Not once.” 

Rian tried to be subtle as he began writing on his notepad, but Awsten noticed. He didn’t acknowledge it, though. 

“Otto told us - and we pressed him about it, honey, he didn’t just say it. But he told us that you were upset one night after you first came back to stay with us.”

Awsten nodded reluctantly.

“But about what happened at the school, what you saw, what you experienced…”

“I didn’t have anything to say,” he shrugged.

“And that’s what we’re worried about,” she explained. 

“Well, I mean, I talked to Rian about it some,” Awsten pointed out.

Rian nodded in confirmation.

Otto’s mom looked relieved. “Good. I just - maybe it’s silly of me, but I don’t know how these things work other than the fact that they say if you bottle things up-”

“You’ll eventually explode,” Awsten finished. “I know.” 

She smiled sadly. “What if I tell Lucas that _something_ happened, even if I don’t say what?”

“I really don’t want you to,” he said softly.

Rian chose then to interject. “That’s fine, but could you tell us why not?” 

“Because I’m really not upset. She was horrible to me,” he said easily. “I don’t want Lucas to try to get me to talk about it, because, honestly, I don’t care. I’m glad she’s gone.”

“That makes a lot of sense,” Rian agreed, and he gave Otto’s mom a little nod as if to tell her, _This reaction is okay._

Her eyes fell to the sand tray, which was still resting on the floor with the cat and the dog facing each other. Awsten knew that she wouldn’t be able to decipher what the toys represented, but it still made him a little anxious knowing that his trauma was literally on display. He didn’t want her to become aware that he was having a harder time than he let her know. 

Rian, ever so observant, realized what was happening and said to Awsten, “We still have a few minutes left, and there’s something else that I want to talk to you about.”

Otto’s mom understood that as her cue to leave, so she quickly shouldered her purse and pulled Awsten into another hug. “I’ll see you soon, sweetie. I’m here to talk any time. Dad, too, okay?” 

Awsten tried to smile. “Yeah.” 

“You just call.” 

“Okay.” 

She pressed a long kiss to his forehead, followed by a short one. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too.”

“You sure you’re okay going back to the home?”

He nodded. “I’m fine.” 

She caressed his cheek one last time and, with a little wave, headed out the door. 

As soon as it was shut, Awsten asked, “Is Godfrey here?” 

Rian gave him a reluctant smile and shook his head. 

He sighed and turned back to face Rian, drawing the pillow back into his lap. “Can you tell Lucas to only bring me when Godfrey can be here?” 

“I can ask Grace if she’ll bring him thirty minutes early next time,” he suggested.

“Yeah!” 

Rian chuckled. “Alright.” He made a note off to the side of his paper and then turned his full attention back to his client. “How are you really feeling?”

Awsten tilted his head to the side as a reassuring smile crossed his face. “I’m fine. Really. I promise, I swear, I cross my heart,” he listed. 

“You’re not the first person I’ve seen react like this,” Rian shared. “Sometimes deaths like this can be very… cleansing, almost.” 

“That’s what I’m hoping,” Awsten confessed. “I’m really okay.”

“There may still be times you feel upset about it,” Rian noted, “and that’s perfectly alright.”

“Yeah.” 

“Awsten, I heard Otto’s mother say that-”

“My mom,” he corrected.

“ _Your_ mom,” Rian nodded, “say that you can call her if you feel like talking. You're always welcome to call me, too. I know I’ve mentioned that before, but I just wanted you to have a reminder.”

Awsten nodded. 

Rian’s phone chimed, and he glanced down at it. “Time's up.”

Awsten got to his feet.

“Was there anything else you wanted to ta-”

“No.”

“And you’re sure you don’t want me to tell Lucas about-”

“I’m sure.” 

“Alright, then.”

Rian followed Awsten out to the waiting room, where they met back up with Lucas. 

“Take it easy today, yeah?” Rian intoned.

Awsten nodded. 

“Everything alright?” Lucas asked, his eyebrows knitting together in concern. 

Rian let Awsten answer.

“Yeah, it’s good.” 

“Okay," Lucas replied, only sounding like he partially believed him. "The van’s out front.” 

Awsten nodded and trailed behind him to the exit. 

 

* * *

 

_ All parents damage their children. It cannot be helped. Youth, like pristine glass, absorbs the prints of its handlers. Some parents smudge, others crack, a few shatter childhoods completely into jagged little pieces, beyond repair. The damage done by Eddie's father was, at the beginning, the damage of neglect.  _

_ As an infant, Eddie was rarely held by the man, and as a child, he was mostly grabbed by the arm, less with love than with annoyance. Eddie's mother handed out the tenderness; his father was there for the discipline.  _

_ On Saturdays, Eddie's father took him to the pier. Eddie would leave the apartment with visions of carousels and globs of cotton candy, but after an hour or so, his father would find a familiar face and say, "Watch the kid for me, will ya?" Until his father returned, usually late in the afternoon, often drunk, Eddie stayed in the custody of an acrobat or an animal trainer.  _

_ Still, for countless hours of his boardwalk youth, Eddie waited for his father's attention, sitting on railings or squatting in his short pants atop tool chests in the repair shop. Often he'd say, "I can help, I can help!" but the only job entrusted him was crawling beneath the Ferris wheel in the morning, before the park opened, to collect the coins that had fallen from customers' pockets the night before.  _

_ At least four evenings a week, his father played cards. The table had money, bottles, cigarettes, and rules. Eddie's rule was simple: Do not disturb. Once he tried to stand next to his father and look at his cards, but the old man put down his cigar and erupted like thunder, smacking Eddie's face with the back of his hand. "Stop breathing on me," he said. Eddie burst into tears and his mother pulled him to her waist, glaring at her husband. Eddie never got that close again.  _

_ Other nights, when the cards went bad and the bottles had been emptied and his mother was already asleep, his father brought his thunder into Eddie and Joe's bedroom. He raked through the meager toys, hurling them against the wall. Then he made his sons lie facedown on the mattress while he pulled off his belt and lashed their rear ends, screaming that they were wasting his money on junk. Eddie used to pray for his mother to wake up, but even the times she did, his father warned her to "stay out of it." Seeing her in the hallway, clutching her robe, as helpless as he was, made it all even worse.  _

_ The hands on Eddie's childhood glass then were hard and calloused and red with anger, and he went through his younger years whacked, lashed, and beaten. This was the second damage done, the one after neglect. The damage of violence. It got so that Eddie could tell by the thump of the footsteps coming down the hall how hard he was going to get it.  _

 

* * *

**Peace and Purpose Home for Young Men - Jawn and Awsten's Room**  
**March 14, 9:30 PM**

“Hey, Jawn?” Awsten whispered just after lights out.

“Yeah?” 

“Can I ask you a question?”

“…you just did.” 

Awsten sighed. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, whatever. What?” 

Awsten leaned up on his elbow. “Were you sad when your parents died?” 

“When my-?" Jawn quickly cut himself off. "Uh… Why?”

Awsten shrugged. “I don’t know. What was it like?” 

“It sucked,” he responded abruptly. 

Awsten grimaced; that hadn’t really been the answer he was gunning for, although he supposed he couldn’t be disappointed when he was prying for private information. “When did it happen?”

“Awsten, I don’t want to talk about it.”

Awsten knew he should let it drop, but he couldn’t stop reaching. He needed something, _anything_ to hold on to. “Is it cause you’re mad at me for having a family?” 

“I’m not mad at you for having a family.”

“Right,” Awsten scoffed as he shot his roommate a look of disbelief. 

Jawn sat up then. “I’m not.”

“Then what’s your deal?” Awsten demanded. “I thought we were gonna be friends. I thought you wanted that.”

“Yeah.”

“Then why do you keep getting mad at me for _everything I do_?”

Jawn’s shoulders sagged. “I’m sorry. I’m trying.” 

“Trying to what?” 

He shrugged dejectedly. “Not be like that. I don’t know. I take everything personally, and trust me, it sucks more for me than it does for you.” He looked away and slid back under his comforter. Awsten couldn’t see his face anymore. “I feel like crap all the time.” 

“Sorry,” Awsten replied curtly, because he did feel bad that Jawn was having a hard time, “but don’t talk shit about my family. Any of them.” 

Jawn nodded. “I’ll stop. I’m really sorry.” 

Awsten shifted, not sure what to think. Jawn sounded sincere, but he’d been spitting venom at the dinner table the night before. Maybe time had put things in perspective for him, although something in the back of Awsten’s mind had him convinced that Jawn was likely to take another jab at Awsten again. 

“That was personal,” Awsten added. “I told you about my parents in secret, and you fucking told everyone. I wouldn’t have done that to you.” 

“I know. I’m sorry,” Jawn repeated. 

“Good. Don’t do it again. I’m fucking serious.” 

“Guys,” Zakk called through the wall. 

Awsten froze, tensed and ready for whatever punishment was coming his way, but all he and Jawn received was a gentle warning.

“Go to sleep.”

The boys fell silent, and they didn’t communicate again until the sun rose.


	13. Why, God?

**Peace and Purpose Home for Young Men - Jawn and Awsten's Room  
** **March 15, 8:13 AM**

The night was long. Awsten finished The Five People You Meet In Heaven around three o’clock in the morning, read his AP Magazine for the fourth time by five, and had grown very (very, very) hungry by the time six-thirty AM came and went. The only problem was that there hadn’t been a single sound from Lucas’ room. Awsten sighed, wondering if he was crazy or he was just becoming delusional, although he figured that if his mind was still clear enough to wonder about delusions, he probably wasn’t having them.

Six-thirty turned to seven, and seven turned to eight. The sun crept onto the landing and into the boys’ room. Awsten’s stomach gurgled. The rest of the house remained silent. 

Once it was several minutes past eight, Awsten got out of bed and wandered into the bathroom, intending to take a shower. He figured it was late enough in the morning that Lucas and Zakk - assuming they weren’t dead and hadn’t been abducted by aliens or something - would believe he’d woken up on his own. He’d just walked through the door when he was startled by Travis flying in from the other side and vomiting noisily into the sink. 

Awsten’s nose wrinkled revulsion. 

“Trav?” came a weak voice from the direction Travis had come, but Travis was too busy throwing up to answer. 

Awsten thought quickly. What would he do if he stumbled across Otto in this situation? 

“I’m in here, Ash,” Awsten said, just loud enough that the other boy would hear. “It’s okay.” And then he slipped to Travis’s side and hesitantly set one of his hands between Travis’ shoulder blades. “It’s okay,” he repeated, for Travis’ benefit this time. He remembered what Mr. W had told him. “It’ll be over soon.” 

Travis coughed, already seeming done and drained, and smeared the back of his wrist across his mouth. 

“You want some water?” Awsten asked knowingly. 

Travis silently nodded. 

Ashton came into the bathroom then, rubbing at one of his eyes. “Do you want your blanket?” he inquired in a gravelly morning voice. 

“Uh-huh,” Travis whimpered. 

“Okay. Come on.” He wrapped one of his arms around Travis and led him back into the bedroom.

Awsten filled a tiny paper cup from the counter with water from the other sink and brought it to Travis in the room he shared with Ashton. Their rooms were the same size, but since the furniture was laid out differently, the space felt significantly smaller.

“You’re not gonna brush your teeth?” Awsten asked as he passed Travis the cup.

Travis shook his head. Ashton smiled sideways at Awsten, who shrugged. 

Awsten stood awkwardly in the room, watching Travis sip at the water. He was about to excuse himself to go and take the shower he’d been planning when Ashton spoke.

“You can sit.” 

“Oh, okay. Um, sure. Thanks.” He moved to take a seat beside Ashton on his twin bed, but Travis protested before he even got halfway down.

“No, that’s breaking a rule!” 

Awsten quickly stood up straight. “Oh - I didn’t know.” 

“We can sit on the floor,” Ashton suggested, so they did. Travis stayed on his bed, wrapped in a blue blanket identical to the ones Jawn and Awsten had in the other room. 

“So… we get up later on weekends?” Awsten asked.

Ashton took his time yawning before he answered. “Yep,” he finally replied. 

Awsten nodded. “What time?”

“Any second,” Ashton said, glancing back at the clock on the nightstand. “Eight-fifteen, usually. Sometimes eight-thirty if Lucas is tired.”

“I can’t picture Lucas being tired,” Awsten admitted, and he smiled in spite of himself. 

“How come you was screaming in the night?” Travis asked. 

A beat passed while Awsten tried not to get angry at the invasive question. But he lost the battle and shot back, “How come you throw up all the damn time?”

“Ooo-kay,” Ashton placated quickly, holding a hand out. 

Travis, of course, took no offense to Awsten’s question or tone. “I have a lotta ‘post-nasal drip,’” he recited. “I don’t know what that means, but the doctor said I have a lot of it. It pools up in my belly, and once there’s a bunch of it, it makes me sick.”

Awsten scrunched up his nose again. “Gross.” 

“Wait, you didn’t rinse it out of the sink, did you?” Ashton asked quickly. 

“No. I remember Lucas wanted to see last time.” 

Ashton sagged, looking relieved. “Yeah. Okay, good.”

“What’s he looking for, anyway?” Awsten wondered.

Travis shrugged, but Ashton mouthed, _Blood._

For Travis’ sake, Awsten acted like he hadn’t seen anything. 

“Where’s your turtle at?” Travis asked. “Can I see it?” 

It took a moment for Awsten to realize Travis had been speaking to him. “Wh- my turtle? What turtle?”

“The stuffed animal Jawn gave him the other night?” Ashton checked.

Travis nodded. “Jawn said it’s yours, and he wouldn’t show it to me cause I have to ask you.”

“Oh. It’s a frog,” Awsten corrected. 

Travis repeated, “Can I see it?” 

Awsten was still a little peeved by the prior invasive question, so he said, “No. Jawn’s asleep.”

“Please?” Travis persisted.

Travis was kind, Awsten reminded himself. Travis wasn’t trying to be hurtful. He just didn’t know better. Awsten silently released a breath. “Maybe later.” 

Travis nodded.

Awsten wouldn’t be like George. Mr. W said that Awsten was a good friend, and Awsten knew that Mr. W wouldn’t have said that if he hadn’t meant it. Mr. W said he’d wished Lennie had been with Awsten instead of George. Awsten really, really didn’t want to be like George. His shoulders deflated. God, he was tired. And hungry. But mostly, he was just _so tired_.

“You alright, mate?” Ashton asked, concern written on his face. 

Awsten did his best to quickly force a smile. “Yeah. Fine.”

Sounds of an upbeat funk song began drifting through the thin wall; Awsten didn’t recognize it, but he figured Lucas must have been awake to press play on something.

“That’s the alarm,” Ashton noted. 

Awsten blinked in surprise. “It is? How come it’s music?” 

“Cause it’s Lucas,” Ashton chuckled. “You never wondered why he’s in such a good mood every morning?” 

The song kept playing, even after Lucas was clearly up and out of bed. Awsten could hear him walking around, going to the closet and back to the other side of the room. The room was quiet until the blinds drew up over the window, and only then did the song stop. Lucas’ bedroom door opened, and he bellowed out his usual, “Good morning, gentlemen! Rise and shine!” 

“We’re awake,” Ashton supplied, and Lucas came to the doorway in surprise.

“Wow! Early risers. Good morning, gentlemen.”

“I threw up,” Travis announced. 

“Well, hello to you, too,” Lucas replied with a gentle smile. 

“Hello. I threw up.” 

Lucas chuckled and scanned the room for evidence. “Do you feel better now?” 

“Yeah.” 

“A little better or a lot better?”

Travis thought for a moment. “A lot.” 

“Good. You made it to the sink, I assume?”

“Yeah. Awsten got me water.” 

“That was very nice of you, Awsten. How are you doing right now?” he inquired.

“Fine.” 

Now that Lucas’ eyes were on him, Awsten felt like Lucas would be able to tell just by looking that Awsten hadn’t slept a wink. But Lucas didn’t say anything about it, just nodded. “Alright. We’ll be outside this morning, so I’d advise you to hold off on your usual shower for a little bit. Go get dressed, please.” 

“Okay,” Awsten murmured as he got to his feet.

“Ugh, I forgot,” Ashton groaned behind him. 

In the other room, Jawn was just dragging himself out of bed. 

“Hey,” Awsten greeted.

“Hey,” Jawn answered sleepily. “Where were you?” 

“Hanging out with Ash and Travis.” 

Jawn raked his fingers down his face, trying to wake himself up. “Oh.”

“You didn’t tell me we get to sleep in,” Awsten accused lightly, dropping onto his bed. He let a small smile cross his face. “I thought Lucas was dead or something when he didn’t start yelling ‘Rise and shine!’ at us before the sun came up.”

“How long have you been awake?” Jawn asked, only half-interested.

“A while.” 

“Knock knock,” Lucas said warmly, tapping on the door to Jawn and Awsten’s room. 

“Hey,” Jawn muttered.

“Good morning, gentlemen.”

“What song was that?” Awsten inquired.

“Hmm?” 

“Your alarm. What song was that? It sounded…” He danced a little. “Fun.” 

Lucas chuckled. “Are you familiar with Bruno Mars?”

“Uh-huh.” 

“It’s one of his.” 

“Which song?”

“It’s from Unorthodox Jukebox, and that’s all I’m saying,” Lucas noted with a secretive smile. Then, to both of them, he commanded, “Come down in five. We’re gonna eat and then get to work.”

Jawn nodded. “Kay.” 

Breakfast consisted of fluffy pancakes, which were a bit of a project to make, but Lucas seemed to be in an extra good mood, so he took on the bulk of the work. Once he was mostly done, he handed out meds while Ashton finished flipping the last few pancakes on the griddle. 

They settled at the table, and Awsten poured himself a generous helping of syrup and then went to town on his three - no, four - no, _five_ pancakes. By the time he was on pancake number six, he realized Lucas had been keeping track of how much he was eating. 

“Why are you so hungry this morning?” Lucas wondered. 

Awsten was busy chewing, so he just shrugged and continued stuffing bite after bite in his mouth. 

Lucas seemed particularly focused on him in during the morning meeting, especially since he couldn’t concentrate during the schedule. Awsten got the gist of the information but not without being asked twice to sit still. 

“Awsten, how are you feeling?” Lucas asked, and Awsten could tell that even more than usual, Lucas was genuinely interested in the answer. 

“Fine. Calm.”

“Are you sure?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Alright, then. Rate your pain.”

“Um, none. Zero.”

“Depression?”

“Zero.”

Then, for the second day in a row, Awsten told Lucas that he’d slept all night. Lucas didn’t have a concrete reason not to believe him, so he wrote down Awsten’s lie. 

“What’s your goal for the day?” 

“To not get in trouble,” he said, just like he said pretty much every day.

“You’ve been having a lot of success with that one,” Lucas mused, setting his pen down for a moment to brush a loose strand of hair behind his ear. “Let’s try a different one today.”

“Nooo,” Awsten protested. 

“Yes. What’s something else you can work on?” 

_Staying up all night even though I’m already so fucking tired. Not snapping at Travis again. Figuring out what song you had set as your alarm._

“I don’t know. To get some school work done?” he shrugged. Jawn used that one pretty often.

“Okay, good.” 

As Lucas recorded the goal, Awsten inwardly groaned. Today was his day off from school. Why the hell would he volunteer to do more homework? Although, he’d already finished his book for Mr. W, so maybe that could count. He spent several seconds trying to figure out whether or not it would, but he came up unsure since he couldn’t think straight; his eyelids were far too heavy.

After the meeting, the boys were sent upstairs to put sneakers on. Jawn grabbed his and went back out to the landing, sitting on the top step as he laced them. He and Lucas were having some lighthearted debate about whether or not Starbucks was a legitimate place to get coffee, so Awsten had the room to himself for a moment. 

“Lucas, help,” Travis whined from the hall, catching Awsten’s attention.

“You can do it,” Lucas encouraged. 

“No, I got stuck. ’s all tangled up.”

Awsten didn’t even need to see Travis to know that a frustrated pout had settled across his lips. 

“Unlace them and start again. I _know_ you can do it.”

“I want Zakk to fix it,” Travis protested.

“You can tie your shoes; I’ve seen you. Try again, please.” 

Travis said indignantly, “Where is Zakk?” 

“It’s Saturday. You know where he is."

“Not here?”

“Right. So try again. No free pass today.” 

Travis sighed loudly and began clomping down the stairs with only one sneaker on. 

Awsten turned to stare longingly at his bed. Just a few minutes of rest would be so nice… He’d been awake for nearly thirty hours. If he could just… He found himself collapsing to sit on the foot of the bed. He flopped backwards, his feet still on the floor, just his top-half actually on the mattress. God, it was so soft. The softest bed _ever_. He shut his eyes, immediately slipped halfway to sleep-

-and was awakened with a start by a roaring sound that seemed to be coming from inside the wall. He jumped up and flew several feet away. It continued snarling like a monster.

“Awsten! Let’s go!” Lucas called from the bottom of the staircase.

“What’s that noise?” Awsten fretted.

“That would be the lawnmower,” Lucas answered, as though the reply should have been obvious. “Come on. Everybody’s already out there.”

“Coming.” Fuck, he must have really been exhausted thinking a lawnmower was a monster.

Just as he dropped back onto the mattress to yank his shoes on, a joyful squeak came from the couches. “I did it, I did it!” 

Awsten heard the familiar slap of a high-five. 

“I knew you could,” Lucas said warmly. “I’m proud of you for working so hard. See why we don’t give up? Now, head out there. I’ll be there in a second.”

“Can I wait for Awsten?” 

“No. Outside, please.”

“Aww.” 

“Awsten!” Lucas called again. 

Awsten was instantly aggravated. He clenched his teeth. “I said I’m _coming_!”

“Don’t speak to me like that,” Lucas responded firmly, starting up the steps to see what was taking so long. 

Awsten swallowed and shrank into himself. He hurried to pull his shoes on, and then he darted into the bathroom. He waited until Lucas had gone into the bedroom he shared with Jawn before he opened the bathroom door and jogged quickly down the staircase. 

Lucas sighed quietly, but Awsten had evaded a beating, so he slipped out the kitchen door. Lucas probably wouldn’t hit him in front of the other guys… right?

Outside, in the grass, there laid a pile of worn out gardening gloves. Travis had wiggled his fingers into a pink pair and looked very pleased with himself.  “My gloves!” he crowed to Awsten.

“Cool.”

He held his hands out to give Awsten a better look. “Do you like them?”

“Yeah, man, they’re nice,” Awsten replied halfheartedly.

Travis smiled. 

The kitchen door emitted a creak as Lucas closed it. Awsten was worried that he hadn’t fully escaped his punishment, but all he received from Lucas was a stern glance. 

As usual, they divided up the jobs: Jawn would mow the front lawn and Awsten would do the back, Ashton was in charge of blowing the clippings, and Travis would help Lucas trim the bushes. 

Everything was fine - a bit hot, but still fine - until Ashton, who was bored and tired of waiting, started goofing around with the blower. He playfully pointed it at Jawn, squinted one eye, and called, “Bang, bang!”

Jawn cut the lawn mower to put up finger guns in retaliation. Within seconds, the two were running across the grass like little kids, pretending bullets were flying.

The motor abruptly stopping alerted Lucas to the fact that something was going on, and by the time he and Travis got to the side of the house, Awsten’s expression had gone completely blank. 

_“Gentlemen!”_

Ashton and Jawn froze at the sharp tone.

Lucas said nothing else and instead motioned to Awsten, who was standing stock still several feet away with his eyes unfocused. 

“Oh, no,” Jawn muttered, wincing. 

“What’s wrong with him?” Travis asked curiously.

“Awsten, I’m sorry!” Ashton cried, setting the machine down and hurrying over. “I was just messing around! I didn’t mean t- I didn’t think about-” He stopped stuttering and let his shoulders droop in regret. “I’m so, so sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” Awsten whispered, but it wasn’t. It wasn’t, it wasn’t, it wasn’t. _He_ wasn’t. Panic gripped his insides. He felt sick. Bravely, he tried to act like everything was okay as he made his way over to Lucas. “I need to… sit down,” he said carefully. 

“Let’s go inside for a minute,” Lucas nodded. He looked at the rest of the boys. “We'll be in the kitchen,” he told them shortly. “You will all stay in the backyard, where I can see you through the window.” Then specifically to Jawn and Ashton, “And absolutely _no more_ imaginary weapons. You two know better.” 

They both hung their heads as Lucas walked Awsten inside. 

Shakily, Awsten climbed onto the counter while Lucas filled up a glass of water and brought it to him. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, pressing the glass into Awsten’s hand.

“Yeah.” 

As Lucas crossed to lean against the opposite counter, his disbelief was clear. “I can’t make you talk,” he stated, “but just know that I don’t appreciate you lying to me.”

Awsten sighed. “I’m sorry, I just…” He took a large gulp of his water, not sure where that sentence was heading. He held the cool liquid between his back teeth for a few moments before he swallowed. “They didn’t mean it,” he said.

“That doesn’t mean it didn’t affect you.” 

Awsten shrugged dejectedly. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Awsten, it’s why you’re here.”

“No, I’m here cause I ran away from school like a pussy.” 

“Because of what happened with the weapon,” Lucas pressed, letting the expletive slide. “The deeper you try to bury this, the worse the damage will be when the explosion comes.” 

“I’m not burying anything,” he scoffed.

“Yes, you are.” Lucas took a few steps forward. “You are, and I’m concerned about it. I understand that you’ve never really had anyone to talk to about serious things, correct?” 

“I mean…” Awsten pictured Otto for several seconds, but Otto wasn’t the kind of person Lucas was talking about. He shook his head. 

“So this is all new to you. I get that. I do. But if you try it - if you just _try_ talking, I’m almost positive you won’t regret it.”

“‘Almost,’” Awsten grumbled. 

“There’s no such thing as never or always.”

"'No such thing' means never," he pointed out.

"Awsten..."

He fought the urge to roll his eyes and took another sip of water. “When can I go home?”

Lucas gave him a half smile. “When I can see that you’re doing significantly better and I have confidence that you’ll be alright without the extra resources.”

Awsten straightened up and plastered on a grin. “I’m fine.” 

“Good try, but it doesn’t work that way. You know that. You’ve got to start talking.” 

“I talk,” Awsten retorted defensively. “I talk to Rian. And I talk when we eat.” 

“About your thoughts,” Lucas clarified. “To Rian, but preferably also here.”

“To you?”

“In our group meetings or with me.” 

“What about Zakk?”

“He counts, too.”

Awsten leaned forward. “He counts as you? Oh, you guys are one person now?” 

Lucas ignored this. “Did you want to talk, or are you ready to go back outside?”

Awsten hopped down from the counter. 

“Cup goes in the dishwasher,” Lucas reminded. 

Awsten would have loved to leave it in the sink - or better yet, out on the counter - but Lucas waited inside, watching him until he obeyed. Then, together, they headed back out into the yard.

Ashton ran up to Lucas as soon as they’d crossed into the sunshine, bursting with more apologies. 

“I appreciate that,” Lucas told him softly, “but it’s not me you need to apologize to.”

“He already said sorry,” Awsten offered.

“I’m sorry again,” Ashton desperately rushed out. He looked anguished. “I am so sorry, Awsten, I-”

Awsten cut him off. “It’s okay, dude. Really.”

“Are you sure? Because I-”

“You weren’t trying to be an asshole,” he shrugged. “Anyway, it’s something I have to get used to.” 

Ashton hesitated and then nodded. 

“Awsten, language,” Lucas reminded quietly.

“Sorry,” Awsten murmured, but he didn’t mean it. 

 

* * *

 

** Houston All-Stars Gym  
March 15, 1:15 PM **

Lucas let out a loud whoop as he jogged into an empty section of the gym.

“Stay back,” Ashton advised Awsten, and all the boys paused as Lucas broke into a run on the blue mat and then did something that looked like a cartwheel followed seamlessly by two different kinds of backflips. 

“Whoa!” Awsten exclaimed. “Cool!”

Lucas grinned, smoothing his hands over his loose bun. “Come on. Let’s go find Rob.” 

“Wait!” Awsten cried as he jogged to catch up with the counselor. “Are you gonna teach me how to do that? Cause I definitely wanna learn how to do that.” 

“If he gets to learn, I want to, too!” Ashton called.

Jawn held up a hand. “Me, too.”

“Me, three!” Travis added.

“Maybe later,” Lucas laughed. Then, specifically to Awsten, “We’re actually going back here.” He pointed through a door, which led to a room nearly as large, but this one was painted completely black. Inside were bars, platforms, and what looked like it could have been a laser tag arena, a paintball arena, or both. Awsten stared at all of it in confusion before he heard a girl’s laugh bubble out from behind one of the wooden blocks. 

“Goddammit!” she cried, dark curls flying as she came into view, a sweatshirt tied around her hips and a wide smile on her face.  She looked slightly familiar, but Awsten couldn’t place her right away. 

A guy emerged as well, darting after the girl so quickly that Awsten was reminded of a comic Otto used to read called The Flash. The guy stretched his fingers out as far as he could and managed to brush them against the girl’s elbow, even as she was sprinting in the opposite direction.

_“No!”_

The guy instantly whirled around, seeming to run even faster, but as he disappeared, the girl noticed Lucas and the gaggle of boys standing off to the side watching. She skidded to a stop and panted, “Oh, hey!”

“Hey,” Lucas smiled. “Are we too early?” 

“Oh, no, no, you’re fine. He wanted to play,” the girl explained as she caught her breath. She noticed Awsten said, “Awsten, right?”

He nodded. They were too far away from Lakeview for her to be from school, right?

The girl smiled, looking satisfied that she’d been correct. “Let me go get him,” she said, motioning after the boy. She vanished back into the maze. They returned together a moment later.

The boy’s face brightened a fraction as his eyes landed on Awsten, and Awsten realized that this was Nate from bible study, which meant the girl must have been his sister, Zoey. Awsten waved, and Nate went over to shake his hand again. Just like last time, Nate didn’t speak. 

“Hey, man,” Awsten greeted, and Nate smiled in acknowledgement and nodded his head. Then he wandered away. 

Zoey’s hands flew to her waist as she hurried to untie her sweatshirt, which she tossed after him.

It hit him in the shoulder, and he turned and watched as it fell to the floor. Then he looked at his sister.

“Go get Rob.” 

He nodded, rolling his eyes a little, like that’s where he was already headed. 

“You ever played tag before?” Zoey asked, her focus back on Awsten. 

He nodded.

“Oh, really?” she asked, eyebrows up in surprise.

“She doesn’t mean on the playground,” Lucas explained. “She means-” He motioned around the room. “Tag.”

Zoey nodded.

“Oh. Then… no.” 

She grinned. “You’re gonna love it.” 

“Lucas Hand!” crowed a loud voice from the upstairs balcony. Awsten followed the sound up to see a guy with the curliest hair he’d ever seen. Even from a distance, Awsten wondered if the guy was tall enough to be in the NBA.

“Robert Damiani,” Lucas grinned. 

Awsten watched in shock as the guy honest-to-god hopped the second-story railing and landed like a cat on the mat below. 

“Come here, you little angel,” he teased, going to hug Lucas. Awsten couldn’t help but notice his British accent. “The good Samaritan of Texas. The savior of the children!”

“Shut up,” Lucas muttered as he pushed the guy away, but Awsten could see him smiling a little. “That doesn’t even make sense,” he scoffed. “‘The good Samaritan of Texas.’”

“Why not?” Travis asked.

“Well, the _Samaritan_ was from _Samaria_ ,” Lucas replied. 

“And an intellectual, too,” Rob remarked. He smirked as Lucas rapidly reached out in a half-hearted attempt to deck him. “You asshole,” he laughed. “So, no more Calum? He’s really gone, then?” 

“Yep.”

“I’ll miss that lad. They grow up so fast,” Rob mused, wiping away an imaginary tear. 

Lucas did lightly whack him across the stomach then. 

“I see you’ve got a fresh one, though,” Rob acknowledged. 

“We sure do. Awsten, come here, please.”

Awsten obeyed, gravitating a little closer. 

“Rob, this is Awsten. And Awsten, this is Rob, my best friend,” Lucas explained. 

“Hi,” Awsten said, raising his hand in a little wave.

“Hey, man. Glad you could join us today.” He pointed at Awsten’s hair. “I like the lilac.”

Awsten smiled. “Thanks.” 

Rob looked at Lucas as if to make sure he was ready to start and then turned to the group. “Alright, break apart, and let’s stretch,” he directed. 

They did, and Awsten watched for a moment and then tried to follow along with what everyone else was doing. 

Once Rob declared the light warm-up done, he asked the little group, “You all ate breakfast and lunch, right?” 

They nodded.

Then, specifically to Awsten, “Lucas explain to you how this whole thing works?” 

“Not yet,” Lucas replied. 

“That’s alright. I think we can show it better than we can tell it.” 

Nate came back through the doorway he’d disappeared into earlier, and Rob looked over and pantomimed shutting off the lights. Nate nodded and hit them. Spotlights illuminated the maze of equipment in the room, but everything else was dark.

“You want some tunes?” Zoey called, already heading for a large speaker system against one of the walls.

“You know it!” Rob called. Then, to Awsten, he noted, “It’s a bracket system; twenty seconds, then you switch. Twenty more seconds. Then the next pair. Don’t do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

And that was it. That was all the instruction he got. Awsten looked confusedly at the other boys, but before any of them could speak, deafening [music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y0lzKNzexVo) shot out of the stereo. 

“Lucas, you ready, my man?” Rob called. 

“You’re going down!” Lucas grinned in response.

“Ah, we’ll see about that. Little Zee, you got the time?”

“Yep!” Zoey chirped. 

A red countdown suddenly flashed across the room. “THREE!”

“Two!” Travis joined in excitedly. 

“ONE!”

And then, like nothing Awsten had ever seen, Lucas was flying across the room with Rob right on his tail like a lion chasing after its prey. Lucas darted left and then right, remaining just out of reach, and when Awsten was absolutely sure that Rob was going to catch Lucas, Lucas threw himself onto the ground and rolled sideways under a platform. Rob bellowed with laughter as he was forced to stop in his tracks to change direction. 

Lucas scrambled back to his feet and kept running until the buzzer sounded, at which point, they spun around and [began the chase again](https://www.facebook.com/namelessnetworkpresents/videos/177019002974200/?hc_ref=ARRkZy5jjGAeipz55JEeLVGQMPTNJq6GFKcmKuULA2Db11EseYH_x0o5gI5ueC5Y6xI). 

“Lucas has been coming here since they opened a couple years ago,” Ashton half-yelled into Awsten’s ear to be heard over the music. 

“He’s really good,” Awsten observed.

Awsten nodded. 

“Wanna race me first?” Ashton asked hopefully, and Awsten smiled.

“Yeah.”

When it was Awsten’s turn, he was sure that he was going to crash into something. He and Ashton weren’t nearly as practiced, fit, or agile as Lucas and Rob, which was obvious right off the bat. Awsten may have been a bit faster than Ashton, but Ashton definitely had the advantage: he was familiar with the layout of the room. He was able to hop over some of the obstacles while time and time again, Awsten kept skirting around them just before he crashed into them. 

The forty seconds were over far too quickly for Awsten’s liking; it felt like as soon as he started to get used to what was going on, he was stopped, but he supposed that the time moved differently for people at a higher level. 

When Awsten went back in again several minutes later, it was to try to catch Travis. While Ashton had been fun to chase, Travis was a whole new experience. Awsten wasn’t expecting Travis to laugh the entire time, but that’s exactly what happened. No one else seemed fazed, so it must have been normal, but Awsten did think it was pretty funny. Soon, he was laughing, too, and they hardly did any fast running at all. 

“I want to see Nate and Lucas do a round,” Awsten mused to Zoey while Jawn and Ashton were having a turn. He turned toward Nate, who was looking away, and called out to him. "Nate! Hey, Nate!"

“Oh - he’s deaf,” Zoey noted easily. 

Awsten’s eyes widened. “Oh…”

“He can do everything everybody else can,” Zoey said immediately, her eyes narrowing slightly and her tone turning sharp. “And he reads lips, so as long as he’s looking at you, he’s good. He’s not any different.”

“No, it’s fine-”

“I know it is,” she snapped.

Awsten nodded. “I was just surprised. I just… didn’t know.”

Zoey relaxed a little. She curled her hair behind her ear. “Yeah. But don’t treat him like a kid, okay? He’s smart.”

“No, I won’t,” Awsten promised.

“Kay.” She headed over to him and relayed Awsten’s message via signs, which earned Awsten a smile over Nate’s shoulder. 

Nate drifted over and stopped beside Awsten, his hands stuffed into the front pocket of his sweatshirt. Neither of them spoke, and Nate never did participate with the guys from Peace and Purpose, but the pair stood in companionable silence as they watched everyone else trade turns chasing each other around the course. 

 

* * *

 

** FutureFaith Church  
March 16, 9:15 AM **

“Good morning, good morning!” Jon grinned. Awsten had forgotten about that blinding, thousand-watt smile, but boy, did he remember as soon as the youth leader, in his torn jeans and white t-shirt, stepped up to the front of the room. “How are all of you doing this morning?” 

_Tired,_ Awsten wanted to answer, but there was silence.

“Aw, come on, man,” Jon chuckled. “Don’t make me do this. I said, _how are you this morning_?”

“Good,” a few people replied.

Jon sighed dramatically. “Ohh, you made me do it. Alright, everybody up. Go say hey to somebody you don’t know.” 

The tiny congregation stared back at him.

“I’m serious!” he laughed. He motioned them to their feet. “Go!” 

Lucas stood and scanned the room for a moment before crossing the aisle and the other row of seats to speak with an older woman. She looked intimidated at first - probably by the gauges. And the long hair. And the tattoos - but as soon as she heard Lucas’ gentle voice, she relaxed and began to smile.

“Um, hi,” a girl’s voice awkwardly said, and Awsten turned around. “Do you remember me?” 

He thought for a second. “S… Sierra, right?”

“It’s Ci- _ah-_ ra,” she corrected, rolling her eyes slightly. 

“Oh. Right. Sorry.” 

“Um, this is my mom.” Ciara pointed to the lady beside her, who looked practically identical, just slightly older and dressed more conservatively.

“Hello,” the woman said icily, extending her hand. Damn, even her skin was cold. 

“Hi,” Awsten responded, smiling as best he could. He glanced beside himself to see if Travis was still there, but the other boys had wandered a few feet away. “I’m Awsten.”

“Are you new to FutureFaith?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Awsten nodded. 

She seemed to like that he called her ‘ma’am,’ because her eyes softened a bit. “And you met my Ciara at bible study on Wednesday?”

“Mom!” Ciara whined. 

“Hush,” the woman replied, “I’m speaking with your friend.”

Awsten waited until he was sure Ciara wasn’t going to say anything else before he answered, “Uh, yeah. Y-yes!” 

“Well, how wonderful,” she replied, and she sounded sincere. 

“Alright, did everybody make a new friend?” Jon called from the front of the room. “This is how we build community, people! You gotta get out of your comfort zone! Put your phone down and talk to the people in front of you! It’s beautiful!”

Lucas returned, and the other boys did as well. Zakk had taken them to introduce themselves to the college kid who was ushering. 

“I hope to see you here again,” Ciara’s mom said, extending her hand for Awsten to shake a second time.

“You, too,” he replied. 

Ciara gave him a tight smile, and she and her mom disappeared to their spot in the middle of the congregation. Lucas had, of course, planted the boys right up front. 

“Some of you know what’s about to happen, and some of you already sat down. If you already sat down and you’re comfortable standing, I’m gonna ask you to please get right back on your feet, cause we’re gonna sing to the Lord this morning.” 

Awsten slowly stood up again, wondering if they were going to go through some hymns. Somehow, he didn’t get that vibe from this place. 

Jon slipped over to the side, where an acoustic guitar Awsten hadn’t noticed was leaning against the wall. He slung the strap over his shoulder and walked up to the front, strumming for a few seconds.

“Blessed be your name,” he sang, smooth and strong, and everyone quickly joined in.

 

 _In the land that is plentiful_  
_Where your streams of abundance flow  
__Blessed be your name_

 

Awsten looked blankly around the room since he didn’t know the words, but then the lyrics came into focus, projected on the wall. It was [some song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tTpTQ4kBLxA) about God being good no matter what was going on. Lucas was really into it. 

Something moved in the corner of Awsten’s vision during the second chorus, and he glanced over his shoulder to see that nearly half of the people gathered in the room had their eyes closed and their hands raised in the air. His stomach twisted uncomfortably, and he quickly turned back around; it felt like he was invading in some private moment. He went back to concentrating on what a great voice Jon had. 

Beside Awsten, Travis was lightly bouncing along to the music, and Awsten noticed that he seemed to know most of the words. So did Ashton. A peek to the left showed that Jawn did, as well. By the end of the song, Awsten definitely had the chorus and the bridge down, though, so maybe church songs weren’t as complicated as songs on the radio.

The guitar paused, and Awsten was glad, but then different music started up. He groaned inwardly; he’d been looking forward to sitting down and hopefully snoozing for a second. But one of the lyrics of the [second song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oH_P7QxDAh8) caught his attention:

 

_Wanderer, come home; you’re not too far._

 

Lucas’ eyes had fallen shut, and his hands were out, palms turned upwards. Awsten wasn’t sure about the whole Jesus thing, and he _definitely_ wasn't sure about the arms-in-the-air thing, but he got why Lucas liked this song. “Lay down your hurt, lay down your heart, come as you are,” was a lot like the message Awsten got from Peace and Purpose. The boys literally had to share their emotions and their burdens twice a day. And Lucas accepted all of them - Jawn with his lashing out, Travis with his excitement and special needs, Ashton with his constant smiles, and Awsten with his trauma and his purple hair. They were all welcome, no matter what had happened before.

When the singing finally ended and everyone settled in their seats, Awsten was expecting someone older (and more boring) to come up and start preaching. But what happened was that Jon set the guitar down and picked up a bible. FutureFaith really was a one-man show.

“Good morning,” Jon smiled.

“Good morning,” everyone replied.

He grinned. “ _Much_ better. You’re all awake now, huh?” he chuckled. “Thank you for coming to church today. We’re glad you’re here. And I’m especially glad that you’re here _today_ , because I’m going to take a verse that you probably know, and I’m going to tear it in half, chew it up, spit it out, and then glue it back together.”

Awsten glanced at Lucas to see a reaction, but the counselor just looked curious. 

“Who here is familiar with a little verse found in Jeremiah? Maybe in Chapter 29…? What verse do you think it is?”

Awsten had absolutely no idea, but several people, including Zakk, Lucas, and Ashton, supplied the number eleven.

“That’s right,” Jon nodded. He recited, “For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord. Plans to prosper you and not to harm you. Plans to give you…?” 

“Hope and a future,” came the confident response from the room. 

“Perfect. But! Does anyone know the context of that verse?” 

There was silence. 

“Yeah, I didn’t know for a long time, either,” Jon admitted. “You always hear verse eleven and nothing before or after it. Well, it turns out that the context is pretty crazy.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows against the pulpit. “So the story is, the Jews disobeyed basically everything God had told them. Yeah, all of them were sinners just like all of us, but, long story short, it was more than that. So God sent them into exile in Babylon, where they became enslaved. Then comes this false prophet, right? His name is Hananiah. And Hananiah tells the Israelites that God’s gonna free them in two years. But it’s a lie.

“God tells the Israelites to go ahead and find peace in the place he sent them, which is the opposite of what they want to hear. They’re slaves now. They want to go home! They’re being treated terribly. But that’s not even the worst part; it turns out that in verse ten, God tells them that he’ll complete his promise… after _seventy years_ are completed in Babylon. That means none of that generation of Israelites - _none of them_ \- will ever return home. People didn’t live very long back then. And God has no plans to free them for _seventy years_.”

Awsten couldn’t help but wince.

“Then comes the verse we all know.”

_Well, not all of us,_ Awsten thought.

“Yes, of _course,_ God knows the plans he has for us,” Jon continued. “And ultimately, he will give us a glorious future. He’s told us this time and time again. But as we walk out our lives here on earth, we’ve gotta remember that the best growth? It comes through persevering through trials, not escaping them entirely.”

Awsten shifted in his seat.

“God’s not leading us down an easy path. He’s not going to draw a rainbow in every sky or erase every obstacle we come up against. His purpose isn’t to chill in the clouds and wave a magic wand whenever we have a problem. Yeah, he’s doing wonders behind the scenes in our lives. But can you think of one person in the bible - _one_ \- who had it easy? Who didn’t go through a trial or a challenge or a sickness or a death? We think of Job, we think of Jonah, we think of Esther, we think of Paul. But can we think of anybody who didn’t struggle?” 

Jon paused, looking over his congregation almost like he was waiting for a response. “No. Because there aren’t any. Even Jesus, when he was here, suffered. And that was all part of God’s will. 

"We follow a loving God. A good, strong, forgiving, powerful, merciful God. But if everything went perfectly for all of us all the time, that would be what?”

“Heaven,” Lucas muttered to himself.

“ _Heaven_ ,” Jon emphasized. “And we’re not in Heaven yet. This is Earth. Things are gonna suck sometimes,” he shrugged. “But does that mean that God doesn’t love us? That he’s abandoned us? That he wants us to be in pain?” 

Some of the people shook their heads.

“Of course not. God loves us. But every story has to have bad parts so we can appreciate and even just notice the good. I know that all of us, every single person in this room, has turned to God, whether you were a believer or not, and asked why. Why did you take this job away? Why do you let children die? Why do you allow wickedness in the world? Why do you hurt good people? Maybe you’ve even wondered, why, God? Why are you doing this to me?” 

A sob shattered the silence in the small church. Lucas’ eyes snapped down the row of chairs, and he got immediately to his feet, slipping past Awsten, past Travis, and over to where Ashton was sitting at the end of the row with his hands covering his face. Awsten watched as Lucas crouched down in front of him.

“I want you to think,” Jon continued, as though nothing had happened, “about a time you’ve questioned God. Just close your eyes… take a moment… think.” 

Awsten knew he was supposed to look away from the scene a few feet away and try to refocus, but he couldn’t stop watching Ashton cry. Ashton, who always seemed the happiest, the most balanced, the most stable out of all four of the boys… And there he was, in public, leaning forward into Lucas’ shoulder, trying to keep quiet as he let out a flood of tears. Lucas cupped a hand behind Ashton’s head but otherwise didn’t make a move to comfort him. It seemed as though Lucas somehow already knew what was wrong.

“Think about the pain you were in, or maybe the pain you were watching someone else go through. Think about how powerless you felt. How confused and angry and hurt you were. Are you thinking about it?” He paused. “I’m going to read the verse again. ‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord. ‘Plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’” He closed the Bible and set it on the stool behind him.

“We may not be able to see God’s entire plan for our lives yet. But we know that God uses everything that happens in our lives to lead us down the path he’s created. And he is with you, every step of the way, calling you to him-”

Ashton sobbed again, quieter, and Lucas leaned close to murmur something in his ear. Ashton nodded, and then Lucas stood with his hand resting between Ashton’s shoulder blades, and they walked together to the back of the room and out the double doors that led to the lobby. 

“It’s okay,” Zakk murmured to the boys, and then he subtly pointed up at Jon. 

Once Zakk’s attention was off of him, Awsten leaned over to Travis and whispered, “Why was he crying?” 

Travis shrugged. 

Awsten shifted his eyes back, but his mind was stuck on Ashton. He wanted to do something to help, but he didn’t even know what was wrong. 

Ashton and Lucas came back in several moments later, and it was only then that Awsten realized he’d tuned the sermon out entirely. His thoughts had stayed several steps behind; he couldn’t stop thinking about the pain and times he himself had questioned God, even though he was pretty sure that he didn't believe. It was easier to blame everything on someone else, pretend that someone far away was orchestrating all this shit. That way, it wasn’t his fault. 

There was first time he realized his parents didn’t treat him the way other parents treated their kids. The first time his father seriously injured him. When Otto and his family went to visit Otto’s grandparents for the entire summer, and Awsten was left behind in Lakeview. When middle school started and none of his shoes fit properly anymore and he didn’t know how the hell he was going to buy a new pair. In high school when he woke up from his knee surgery completely alone. And then there was the obvious one - Michael pressing the gun against his spine. Seeing a dead, oozing body in the grass and knowing he was responsible for it. Cops berating him with questions and taking close-up pictures of the blood on his face and making him feel more alone than he ever had -

“Awsten, scoot down!” Travis stage whispered, and Awsten glanced over to see Lucas motioning him toward Jawn and Zakk so that Lucas could fill the end seat. He obeyed, and his ears picked up the very, very end of Jon’s message.

“…use these things to lead us down the path to glorify him. Let’s bow our heads.” 

Awsten obeyed.

“Father God, we thank you for bringing us into your house today. We thank you for the times you’ve changed our plans because you knew that what we needed was more important than what we wanted. We thank you for the broken dreams that you used to share your word, God. We thank you for bringing us more than we could have ever dreamed and making beauty from ashes. We love you, God, and we ask that you be with us today and every day, God. Show us that we can trust you, even in the middle of the storm, because only you know where our path leads. Open our hearts to you, God, in the dark times and the light. Work through us to spread the gospel and your grace. And all God’s people say?” 

“Amen,” the congregation chorused. 

Jon stepped back up to the microphone and started playing the same song from before.  Somehow, it felt different this time.

 

 _Blessed be Your name_  
_When the sun’s shining down on me_  
_When the world’s all as it should be  
_ _Blessed be Your name_

 _Blessed be Your name_  
_On the road marked with suffering_  
_Though there’s pain in the offering  
_ _Blessed be Your name_

 

Awsten stopped singing and just listened.

 

 _You give and take away_  
_You give and take away_  
_My heart will choose to stay_  
_Blessed be your name_

 

When the service was over, Lucas instructed the boys to wait in the lobby with Zakk. There was no further information, so, naturally, Awsten was curious about what they were still doing there. After Jawn had engaged Zakk with a question about whether or not he was allowed to drop out of school (and was met with a resounding no), Awsten floated over to the doors to the makeshift sanctuary. A peek inside showed him that Ashton was up front, sitting in a chair beside Jon. Ashton was talking, moving his hands as he spoke, and Jon was nodding and listening intently. 

After several moments, they switched; Ashton stopped speaking, and Jon began, and it seemed as though Ashton was hanging on his every word. They had just joined hands and bowed their heads when a throat cleared immediately to Awsten’s right. He jumped, saw Lucas standing beside him, and he began to dash back to where Jawn, Travis, and Zakk were waiting.

Lucas caught him lightly by the arm. “Why were you doing that?” he murmured.

“I - I wanted to m-make sure he was okay,” Awsten stuttered, suddenly frozen to the spot in case Lucas decided to raise a hand to him. 

Lucas nodded once. “I understand. But we value privacy here. I told you that on your first day, yes?”

Awsten looked down.

“Yes?” Lucas prompted sternly.

“Uh-huh,” Awsten echoed.

“Go sit with Zakk.”

Awsten obeyed. Before he’d been caught, he would have asked Ashton in the parking lot whether he was alright, but afterwards, all he could feel was cold fear in his stomach. 

Luckily, he slept the whole way home.

  

* * *

 

** Peace and Purpose Home for Young Men  
March 16, 2:58 PM **

Geoff double-checked the address, but at the sight of the faded basketball hoop at the side of the driveway, he was fairly sure he was in the right place.

He was getting out of the car when a man with his hair brushed messily back into a bun emerged from the house, a tan leather jacket settled comfortably over his shoulders. “What’s your name?” he asked cautiously, but he kept walking toward Geoff’s car.

“Oh, I’m Geoff Wigington. I spoke with someone on the phone-”

The guy smiled and relaxed. “Hey. I’m Lucas.” 

Geoff’s lips drew up as well. “Lucas,” he echoed with a nod, “hello.”

“It’s so nice to meet you,” Lucas said, holding his hand out as he briskly closed the last few feet between them. 

“It’s nice to meet you, too. Thank you for letting me visit.”

Their hands clasped tightly together. 

“No problem. Awsten’s going to be so happy to see you,” Lucas smiled. “I’ve got some papers for you to sign, and then you’re welcome to come in.” He passed Geoff a sort of contract, which just stated that Geoff wouldn’t take anything, be alone with the kids, or act inappropriately. 

Geoff scanned the page and scribbled his signature with the black pen Lucas handed him. Then he smoothed his hands over his jacket and followed Lucas toward the house. 

“Now, I’ll warn you,” Lucas began quietly as he opened the door and led Geoff into the entry, “he hasn’t been s-”

But before Lucas could get another word out, Awsten stepped forward, bumping into Geoff’s chest and leaning into him. Awsten embraced him, albeit far looser than the last time.

Geoff hugged Awsten back, glad to finally be able to do something to comfort him. Geoff had felt so helpless, not even being able to contact Awsten other than the letter, which Geoff still wasn’t sure Awsten had actually received. It had been hard fielding questions from the students at Lakeview when he didn't truly know himself whether Awsten was alright or not. He still felt obligated to assure them that he was. But somehow, the more he tried to convince the students of that fact, the less he believed it himself. 

“Hello,” Geoff whispered, hoping that the contrasting emotions tangled in his chest wouldn’t be audible in his voice. 

Awsten pressed closer.

Lucas was silent as he watched the pair of them embracing. 

“You came,” Awsten mumbled into Geoff’s shirt. 

Geoff smiled. “Of course I came.” 

“You came,” Awsten softly repeated. 

The genuine wonder in Awsten’s voice sent a fresh twinge straight to Geoff’s heart. When it became clear that Awsten had no plans to let go, Geoff rested his chin atop Awsten’s head. “How have you been?”

“Okay.”

Geoff hummed lightly in lieu of a reply. 

In all honesty, seeing Awsten was more emotional than he had expected. It had been eleven days since the lockdown and six days since he’d sat in the grass, his arms encircling Awsten while he sobbed. It felt like a handful of seconds. It felt like a lifetime. 

Part of Geoff still couldn’t believe that Awsten was alive. He’d survived seventeen years of his wretched parents only to have a semi-automatic weapon pressed to his skin. Geoff knew that Awsten was nearly eighteen, but after all that Geoff had come to learn, in Geoff’s mind, Awsten was beginning to take the shape of a child.

“Did you bring a book?” Awsten murmured.

Geoff let out a little laugh. “I have a few with me, yes. Would you like to hear one?”

Awsten nodded and retracted his arms. 

“Are you gonna read to him? Can I listen, too?” came a hopeful voice from off to the side, and Geoff turned his head. He was met with the sight of three young teenagers peeking around a doorway. One of them quickly ducked out of sight.

“You don’t have to hide in the dining room,” Lucas told the gaggle of boys. “You can come say hi.” 

“Hi,” a different voice greeted hesitantly. It belonged to a boy with thick, wavy hair and round eyes. He glanced at the other two boys with him and then stepped out, going over to where Awsten was standing. A painfully thin boy with much darker hair trailed in his shadow. 

“Hello,” Geoff replied. They both looked young; they probably could have fit right into his freshman English class.

“Are you Awsten’s papa?” the dark haired boy piped up.

“No…”

“You’re Mr. W, aren’t you?” asked the third boy, who was looking back out but still hadn’t emerged from the dining room. He had longer hair than the other two and darker skin.

Geoff’s eyebrows rose. “Yes, that’s me,” he answered. He didn’t know Awsten would have mentioned him. 

Three fingers hooked onto the side of Geoff's button-down. 

Geoff looked at his student and was surprised to see that he looked slightly distressed. “What’s the matter?” Geoff asked softly. “Are you alright?”

Awsten bit his lip and nodded, fidgeting with the fabric beneath his fingers and then stepping back into Geoff’s space for another hug. Reflexively, Geoff’s palm came up to rest on his back.

“Awsten,” Lucas prompted, “would you like to tell your teacher what you told me a few minutes ago?”

Awsten shook his head. 

“I’m going to if you don’t,” Lucas warned, although it didn’t come across to Geoff as a threat. It just seemed more like a fact. 

Awsten shook his head again and closed his eyes, resting his head against the center of Geoff’s chest. 

Geoff turned his head to look at Lucas, who sighed. 

“He hasn’t been sleeping,” Lucas explained defeatedly. “I guess for the past several days, he’s been getting naps when he can but staying up all night.” 

“Since Wednesday night,” Awsten mumbled into Geoff’s chest. 

“Wednesday?” Geoff exclaimed worriedly. He stepped back and leaned down a little so he could clearly see Awsten’s face. “Awsten, it’s Sunday afternoon!” 

Awsten had a troubled expression on his face, one that Geoff recognized easily from his time teaching high school students: Awsten was trying very hard to decide whether or not to say something. Finally, he shook his head, blowing out a frustrated breath. 

Geoff felt a little disappointed that Awsten was keeping whatever it was inside, but he understood. 

“What book didja bring?” the dark haired boy piped up, his eyes on Geoff.

“It’s up to Awsten whether or not he wants to share his time,” Lucas cut in before Geoff could reply. 

“Awsten, please?” the boy begged. 

“I finished The Five People You Meet In Heaven,” Awsten mumbled, ignoring everyone but Geoff. 

“You did?” Geoff inquired, his eyebrows shooting up again. That was early.

“Mm-hmm. A couple nights ago.” 

“Oh? And what did you think of it?”

“A lot.” 

Geoff smiled. “Well, that’s good; you have an essay coming up. Maybe you can write it about that book.” 

Awsten pursed his lips and shook his head. “I’m too tired.” 

Lucas nodded at that. “You need sleep.”

“I have an idea,” Geoff said softly, glancing over at Lucas.“When I was younger, my grandmother used to read to me to help me fall asleep,” he told the counselor. “She would only read so long as my eyes were closed. Perhaps we could give that a try.”

Lucas nodded. “That sounds like a great idea.”

“No!” Awsten pleaded. 

“The two of you can visit first,” Lucas suggested. “You can show Mr. W around if you want to. But then, yeah, I think that’s something we need to try.”

Awsten looked to Lucas. “Can I just talk to him for a while?”

“Of course you can.” 

Awsten walked a few feet over and dropped onto the blue couch. 

Geoff followed his lead, taking a seat beside him as Lucas ushered the other boys upstairs. “How have you been?” he inquired again.

“Fine,” Awsten shrugged. 

“Do you… enjoy your time here?” 

Awsten smiled emptily. “Yeah, I guess. But we have a lot of therapy. And church.”

“Maybe it’ll be easier once you’ve settled into the routine,” Geoff suggested.

“Yeah. Maybe.” Awsten abruptly changed the subject. “Have you seen Otto?” 

Geoff nodded. “I have, yes.” 

“Is he okay? Does he seem normal?”

“I didn’t know him well before,” Geoff reminded Awsten gently, “but he does seem fairly ‘normal.’” Geoff didn’t add that he and Otto had actually sought one another out to talk earlier that week. 

“And what about Alex?” Awsten demanded. 

“Alex seems absolutely the same,” Geoff warmly responded. “He asks about you frequently, though. He’s always wondering when you’ll be returning.” 

Awsten sighed, falling backing the couch cushions. “It doesn’t sound like I will be _ever_. My tutor keeps talking about that.”

“What do they say?” 

“Just stuff about like, when ‘we’ finish school, like him and me.” 

Geoff nodded. “Do you miss attending regular school?”

Awsten put on half of a crooked smile. “No.” 

“Then maybe it’s not such a terrible thing after all.”

“Yeah. I miss English, though.”

Geoff’s chest warmed. “Do you, now?”

“Yeah. We start school at almost the same time you guys do, so I always think how I’d be in your class if I was at Lakeview.” 

“I think of you every morning at that time as well,” Geoff admitted. Then he chuckled. “I would even if Alex didn’t ask about you incessantly.” 

“Just tell him I’m not coming back. He’ll keep getting his hopes up if no one says it.”

“Hmm. I’m not sure that’s my information to share.”

“I just told you it was,” Awsten murmured, closing his eyes. 

“Still, I don’t know if I’m comf-”

“How’s Tuna?”

Geoff huffed a laugh. “She's doing well. I took a photograph of her this morning. Would you like to see?” 

Awsten shot up and leaned toward Geoff. 

“She was being quite the rascal. I turned my back for twenty seconds, and she had her tongue in my oatmeal.” He pulled up the picture and passed the phone to Awsten, watching attentively as Awsten smiled for the first time in what felt like forever. 

“I love her,” Awsten declared. He zoomed in on the gray animal with her small face hidden by the oversized, blue bowl. 

“She loves you, too.”

Awsten looked at it for another few seconds before he turned somber and handed the phone back. “Do you think I’ll ever get to see her again?”

“Whenever you like,” Geoff told him. “Well - so long as I’m home. I don’t think I would enjoy you breaking and entering very much.” 

Traces of a new smile drifted to Awsten’s face. “Thanks,” he said softly. 

“Of course.” Sensing that Awsten was done talking, Geoff suggested, “Shall I show you which books I brought?”

Awsten nodded. 

“Alright. Let me gather them from my car.” 

When Geoff got back with his small arsenal of stories, Lucas was arranging the other three boys on the maroon couch. 

“Could you please tell me your names again?” Geoff prompted as he returned to his seat.

“Travis!” the brown haired boy cried excitedly. 

“I’m Ashton,” answered the boy with the bandana, “and that’s Jawn.” 

“Travis, Ashton, Jawn,” Geoff repeated, looking at each boy as he echoed their name. “And I’m Mr. Wigington, one of Awsten's teachers from school. You may call me Mr. W if you prefer. It seems that everyone does.”

Awsten nodded in confirmation.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Ashton said politely.

"It's very nice to meet you all, as well."

“Your sweatshirt is upstairs,” Jawn flippantly noted, and Geoff almost laughed at the wild glare Awsten shot across the space. 

“You can hold onto it,” Geoff told him. 

His cheeks were red as he muttered his thanks.

“What books didja bring?” Travis repeated. 

“Well, let’s see,” Geoff said. He had three in his hands, and he held them out so that Awsten and the other boys could all see. “I have The Maze Runner, The Outsiders, and Harry Potter.” 

“The Outsiders is lame,” Jawn drawled. 

Geoff’s eyebrows shot up curiously. “What makes you say that?”

Jawn snorted and cast his gaze across the room. 

Geoff smiled a little; he knew that look. “You didn’t actually read it, did you?” he asked good-naturedly.

“I…” He blushed.

“Maybe we should try that one, then,” Lucas suggested, “since, you know, Jawn, we don’t judge a book by its cover.” 

“It’s not the cover,” Jawn protested. “We read it in _middle school._ ” 

Geoff had a response ready for that one, as well. “A good book can be enjoyed by anyone at any age.” 

Lucas grinned. 

“What’s it about?” Awsten asked skeptically. 

Had Awsten been more of his normal self, Geoff would have loved to kindly point out that he was supposed to have read The Outsiders his freshman year, but Geoff wouldn’t have brought it if he thought Awsten had actually spent five minutes with it. 

“It’s about two weeks in the life of an outcast high school boy. He and his brothers-”

“No,” Awsten dismissed. He pointed to The Maze Runner. “What’s that one about?”

“A teenage boy who wakes up in an elevator, and the only thing he knows is his name.” 

“I want that one,” Awsten decided. 

“Yay!” Travis cheered.

As Geoff opened to the first page, he prompted, “Get comfortable, and close your eyes. Remember, if you open your eyes, I stop.”

Awsten nodded, lying back on the couch with a bit of anxiety in his expression.

“It’s alright,” Geoff assured softly. Then he turned to the novel.

 

_He began his new life standing up, surrounded by cold darkness and stale, dusty air. Metal ground against metal; a lurching shudder shook the floor beneath him. He fell down at the sudden movement and shuffled backward on his hands and feet, drops of sweat beading on his forehead despite the cool air. His back struck a hard metal wall; he slid along it until he hit the corner of the room. Sinking to the floor, he pulled his legs up tight against his body, hoping his eyes would soon adjust to the darkness._

_With another jolt, the room jerked upward like an old lift in a mine shaft. Harsh sounds of chains and pulleys, like the workings of an ancient steel factory, echoed through the room, bouncing off the walls with a hollow, tinny whine. The lightless elevator swayed back and forth as it ascended, turning the boy’s stomach sour with nausea; a smell like burnt oil invaded his senses, making him feel worse. He wanted to cry, but no tears came; he could only sit there, alone, waiting._

_My name is Thomas, he thought. That … that was the only thing he could remember about his life._

_He didn’t understand how this could be possible. His mind functioned without flaw, trying to calculate his surroundings and predicament. Knowledge flooded his thoughts, facts and images, memories and details of the world and how it works. He pictured snow on trees, running down a leaf-strewn road, eating a hamburger, the moon casting a pale glow on a grassy meadow, swimming in a lake, a busy city square with hundreds of people bustling about their business. And yet he didn’t know where he came from, or how he’d gotten inside the dark lift, or who his parents were. He didn’t even know his last name. Images of people flashed across his mind, but there was no recognition, their faces replaced with haunted smears of color. He couldn’t think of one person he knew, or recall a single conversation._

_The room continued its ascent, swaying; Thomas grew immune to the ceaseless rattling of the chains that pulled him upward. A long time passed. Minutes stretched into hours, although it was impossible to know for sure because every second seemed an eternity. No. He was smarter than that. Trusting his instincts, he knew he’d been moving for roughly half an hour._

_Strangely enough, he felt his fear whisked away like a swarm of gnats caught in the wind, replaced by an intense curiosity. He wanted to know where he was and what was happening. With a groan and then a clonk, the rising room halted; the sudden change jolted Thomas from his huddled position and threw him across the hard floor. As he scrambled to his feet, he felt the room sway less and less until it finally stilled. Everything fell silent._

_A minute passed. Two. He looked in every direction but saw only darkness; he felt along the walls again, searching for a way out. But there was nothing, only the cool metal. He groaned in frustration; his echo amplified through the air, like the haunted moan of death. It faded, and silence returned._

_He screamed, called for help, pounded on the walls with his fists._

_Nothing._

_Thomas backed into the corner once again, folded his arms and shivered, and the fear returned. He felt a worrying shudder in his chest, as if his heart wanted to escape, to flee his body. “Someone… help… me!” he screamed; each word ripped his throat raw._

 

* * *

 

 **Peace and Purpose Home for Young Men - Entry**  
**March 16, 3:40 PM**

“He looks exponentially better,” Geoff observed softly to Lucas, who was relaxing on the opposite couch. Awsten’s housemates had been sent upstairs to resume quiet time after two chapters, and Awsten was sound asleep, propped up against the arm of the sofa with his arms crossed over his chest and the bottom of his white socks resting against Geoff’s knee.

Lucas raised his eyebrows at the surprising sentiment.

“I know he’s exhausted, but he’s put on a decent amount of weight since the last time I saw him,” Geoff explained. “He was skin and bones before. His skin was nearly translucent. But he looks like a regular teenager now.” 

“Do you know why he was so thin?”

“It seems that his parents were never very interested in taking care of him,” Geoff replied quietly.

Awsten’s chest slowly rose and fell, and for the first time since Geoff had met him, the boy seemed genuinely relaxed and at peace. 

Lucas inquired, “How did you two meet?”

“Oh, he’s in my - or he _was_ , rather - in my first period this year. Senior English.” 

“Certainly seems like it’s his favorite subject,” Lucas mused. 

Geoff exhaled, and a small laugh emerged with the breath. “That’s quite a new development, if there’s any truth to it.” 

Lucas shook his head. “The kid’s always got a book tucked away somewhere. He ran out of material, so he borrowed my copy of Twilight.”

Geoff chuckled.

“Zakk, my right hand man, was trying to get Awsten to go somewhere that he didn’t want to, and he and Awsten’s tutor started negotiating with him about reading time.” 

Geoff smiled and looked down at the sleeping student. “That’s incredible,” Geoff murmured. “I’m not sure he ever finished a book in his life before two weeks ago.” 

“Wow. What do you think changed?”

“He needed someone.” Geoff slowly ran a hand over his mouth. “I was the only adult he hadn’t completely alienated. Or - well, I was the only one who hadn’t fallen for his act, I suppose. Teenagers are smart; they are aware of much more than they receive credit for.”

Lucas nodded in firm agreement.

“He was desperate for… _anyone_ , I think, and he knew that I didn't believe in the persona he was displaying, so he turned to me.” He looked across to Lucas, and his voice softened as the memories flooded back in. “He was bruised and crying - literally - but he didn’t want to confide in me. He just needed a place to go, I suppose. And while I do recognize that I am a good listener, I have absolutely no counseling abilities. So I, not knowing how on earth I was supposed to help him, picked up the closest book and started reading to distract him, and… we understood each other from that point onward.”

Lucas offered thoughtfully, “I respect that.”

“Thank you.”

Lucas nodded. “What about you? How are you holding up? I mean, after what happened?” 

Geoff snorted quietly. “I’m alright. I just worry about my students.” 

“Yeah, I get that. Were you, um… teaching when it happened?”

Geoff attempted a smile. “I was, yes. Awsten was missing from my class, but he tends to be late, so it wasn’t too far out of the ordinary. Another boy was missing, as well - Michael. It turned out that he was the one who brought the gun.”

“He was in your class?” Lucas asked incredulously.

“Yes, and if he had been that morning, he wouldn’t have…” Geoff trailed off as he noticed his heart begin to pound in his chest. “I’m sorry; I haven’t actually spoken about this before.” 

“Come in my office,” Lucas said immediately, getting to his feet. 

Geoff didn’t move.

“It’s okay,” Lucas encouraged. “You should talk to someone, and I’m right here.”

“What about Awsten?”

Lucas glanced down at the sleeping boy. “He’s not going anywhere.”

Hesitantly, Geoff followed Lucas into the small room off the entry. The door closed behind them.

“You know that it’s not your fault, right?” Lucas said immediately, his voice firm.

“He was in my classroom for nearly five hours each week,” Geoff protested. “ _Five hours_  each week. I had him his freshman year for five hours each week then, too. That’s two years I should have noticed something was going on. I can see it so plainly now, that something was wrong. He never smiled. He’d stare at the other students strangely. His writing was… violent.”

“Are you a psychologist?” 

Geoff frowned. “No.”

“Exactly. You were there to teach him English. Not figure out some secret plan.”

“Five hours each week,” Geoff repeated, an angry glint in his eye, “and I hardly tried to get past his exterior. He was outwardly bored with me, and I felt guilty about that. My other kids try to hide it, at least. Or I can merely pretend that they’d choose a cell phone over everything. But Michael was different. He was…” Geoff paused, trying to select the correct words. “He wanted me aware of the fact that I was uninteresting to him. Instead of attempting to engage him, it was easier for me to let him come and go unnoticed as he preferred.”

“How many kids do you teach?”

“That’s not the point,” Geoff sighed exasperatedly. “I see every child as an individual; I always have. And then for something like this to happen right under my nose...”

“Geoff, there was an entire school filled with teachers and students there, not just you. Anyone could have noticed something. No one did.”

“No, we all did. We _all_ did, but no one did anything. Not one of us said a word to him or to each other. There wasn’t a single report filed with the administration, and that mis-” Geoff quickly cut himself off and reeled his emotions back in. “The counselor never met with him, either. I asked her. I’m not sure why she answered me.” He looked at Lucas, expecting another question that he could counter, but it didn’t come. 

“Tell me more about it,” Lucas said, holding a hand out. 

“About which part?”

“Any of it. Whatever you feel comfortable sharing.” 

Geoff swallowed and looked away. “I really do think it’s my fault,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper. “And please don’t protest until I’ve finished speaking, because you’ll understand once I’m done.” 

Lucas nodded. “Okay. I’m listening.”

“He did this on March fifth. We… I…” Geoff’s voice broke, and he bowed his head. “We had just finished Of Mice and Men in my class. Their test was on the third, and I handed it back on the fourth. I just know that if I hadn’t ch-”

“Is this because of the ending of that book?” Lucas interrupted. His eyebrows were knit together in deep and genuine concern.

“Yes,” Geoff whispered. He blinked, and two tears rolled down his cheeks.

Lucas immediately reached for the box of tissues and handed them to Geoff, who pulled one out of the top but didn’t use it right away.

“Wasn't that book written in the thirties? How many high schoolers do you think have read it?”

“It’s not about that!” Geoff argued. He was starting to grow heated. “ _Those kids_ are different than _these kids!_ And it was so insensitive of me to look past that! I thought that censorship and omitting things because they might be ‘offensive’ was silly and, frankly, un-American. If we don’t learn about history, if we don’t talk about what’s difficult, how will we grow? How can we change? Forgetting the past is immensely dangerous. But this was too much; I overlooked the fact that all it takes is one student to hear the story in a certain way, and... And it’s too late now. A child is dead because of me.”

“Geoff,” Lucas murmured, unable to mask the surprise in his voice.

“He wrote me this - this essay,” he stuttered, a few more tears falling, “about the novel, and while I have to admit that it was amazingly crafted, it made me uneasy. I should have handed it in to the administration, or at least to Annie. But I didn’t. Most students just write what they think I want to hear. He didn’t do that, not for that assignment. He wrote what he really thought. I wanted him to trust me, and I wanted him to know that I respected his thoughts. For some reason, that was more important than - than everyone’s lives.” He lifted one of the tissues to his eyes, which he wiped angrily. “I was too blind to see it that way.” 

“How could you have known?” 

“It was right in front of me,” Geoff spat. 

Lucas readjusted in his chair. "Do you believe," he began slowly, "that had you truly, explicitly known what Michael had been planning that you would have just let it happen?"

"No. No, of course not."

"What would you have done? If you came across his plans, or if he told you about them?"

"Reported it. Immediately." 

"Yes. You would have stopped it, right?"

Geoff nodded. 

"And the only reason you didn't do that?" Lucas paused. "Is because you didn't know."

Geoff's shoulders deflated, and he rested his face in his hands.

"You didn't know, Geoff. You love your students. I just met you - less than an hour ago - but I can tell. You would never have allowed this to happen."

"But it still did."

"Because you had no idea. You did what you thought was best, which was getting through to a difficult kid. You thought you'd finally found your way to connect with him." 

"I suppose," Geoff agreed, his voice small. 

Lucas nodded. "The reason he got away with his plan was because he didn't tell anyone. He made sure no one could stop him." 

"Regardless..." Geoff forced himself to sit up straight again. "I'll never, ever forgive myself."

Lucas was quiet for a moment. Then he recalled, “You said you haven’t talked about this yet?”

Geoff shook his head. He recognized a feeling of embarrassment creeping over him; that was the biggest outburst he’d had in quite some time. He began to dry his eyes again. “No. And I’m very sorry. I didn’t mean to get so tempestuous.”

“No,” Lucas replied, “I wasn’t saying that at all; I just wanted to know if you would be open to me giving you a list of resources.” 

“For counseling?”

“For therapy,” Lucas corrected.

“Oh, no, no,” Geoff responded quickly. “No, thank you, but I really don’t need that.”

Lucas softened his voice. “If it were me,” he began, “and one of these boys did something like that - God forbid - and I said that I didn’t need to talk to someone about it, would you think that was a healthy choice?” 

“Well, no, but-”

Lucas smiled sadly, and Geoff closed his mouth. 

“So can I get you that list?” Lucas pressed. “You don’t even have to do anything with it; it’s just a piece of paper. But like you said about Michael… At some point, it's too late. I don't know where your mind is, but from what you just told me, it doesn't sound like a great place. As a counselor, but also just as a human being, I can’t let you walk out that door without offering you help.” He shrugged. "I just can’t. I’m sorry.”

Geoff was silent.

Quietly, Lucas asked, “What would you want Awsten to do if he was in your shoes?”

Geoff shut his eyes. “Very well,” he sighed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zuaBRqUBhyw
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=COJKU8s2pMw
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oH_P7QxDAh8


	14. Ache

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last week, someone asked me a great question!! they wanted to know if "mr. w" is pronounced like "mr. double-you" or "mr. vee," and the answer is double-you! if you have any questions about ANYTHING, please let me know!  
> also, if you take COMMISSIONS and you're interested in $ for DRAWING something for this story, please message me on tumblr (you don't have to have an account) at http://otto-wood.tumblr.com/ask <3  
> also, http://miafic.tumblr.com is a thing now! :))))

**Peace and Purpose Home For Young Men - Entry  
** **March 17, 6:32 AM**

“Awsten… Awsten, hey. Time to get up, dude.” 

“No…”

A hand reached down to lightly jostle Awsten’s shoulder. “Come on, big guy, let’s go.” 

Awsten was able to place the voice as Zakk’s, and he forced his heavy eyelids open. “Wh…?” He sat halfway up and subsequently winced, immediately regretting his decision. “Ughh,” he groaned. His nap on the couch had _not_ been good to him. “Where’s Mr. W?”

“He went home.”

Awsten frowned in confusion.

“He went home _yesterday_ ,” Zakk clarified. “It’s Monday, man. Breakfast time.” 

“Breakfast?” Awsten echoed groggily.

“Yep. We let you sleep through dinner. And the meeting. And the whole night. But it’s time to get up now, so…” 

Awsten nodded and yawned widely, scrubbing his hands over his face and lightly smacking his lips together. 

Zakk laughed as he began to walk to the kitchen. “Next time you want to schedule a hibernation, let me and Lucas know ahead of time, and we can try to pencil it in.” 

Awsten snorted. He got to his feet and took his time stretching out his stiff muscles. His back ached terribly, but he was definitely feeling taut resistance in his arms and neck as well. The steamy water in the shower did wonders for him a few minutes later; he could feel the tension melting out of his body, although his back was still bothering him a bit when he got out.

“Hey,” Lucas said softly, catching him on his way out of the room. “Good morning. How are you feeling after your rest?”

“Good,” Awsten replied.

Lucas drew a finger up to his lips. “Get dressed quietly and then come downstairs, please. You’re not in any trouble, but I need to speak with you.”

“I thought you were supposed to be off today,” Awsten whispered.  
  
“That’s correct. I’ll explain in the kitchen.”

Awsten nodded and, curious, hurried to pull clothes on and join the rest of the group downstairs. When he got there, everyone was in the kitchen. Zakk passed out yogurt as Lucas distributed meds, and Ashton was nowhere to be found.

“Awsten, say grace, please.” 

“Oh, um, okay.” He was pretty sure it wasn’t his turn, and he wondered why they weren’t waiting for Ashton, but he obeyed regardless. “Dear God, thanks for giving us food for breakfast. And thanks for Mr. W coming yesterday, and thanks for letting me sleep. Amen.”

“Amen,” the table echoed. 

Travis made a grab for one of the bagels in the middle of the table, and Jawn, Awsten, and Zakk each took one, too. Lucas didn’t seem to be planning to eat. As Awsten began spreading cream cheese, Lucas started to speak. 

“We talked about this last night,” he said, “but I know you didn’t get to hear it, Awsten, and I just wanted to remind everyone again: we’re not acknowledging St. Patrick’s Day today.” 

“That’s today?” Awsten asked.

Lucas nodded. 

“Well, why not?” Awsten asked. 

“We’re just not.” 

Awsten looked up; that didn’t seem like a typical Lucas answer. He figured it was because of drinking or something, although if that was the case, Awsten was kind of bothered for Travis’ sake. He figured Travis would love the whole mischievous leprechaun thing. Awsten remembered being delighted in elementary school when the teachers would turn the classrooms upside down and pretend that the leprechauns had come and ransacked the space overnight. Otto’s mom used to do it to the Woods' kitchen, too. 

“Um, another thing,” Lucas murmured. “Today is a tough day for Ashton, which is why I’m here. He’s going to be relaxing upstairs. If he feels like participating, he’s welcome to, but that’s not very likely.”

“A tough day?” Travis repeated. 

“Yes.”

“Is he sick?”

“He’s not sick, no.”  
  
Awsten asked, “Then what’s wrong?”

“Is that why we can’t have St. Patrick’s Day?” Jawn piped up.

“What’s St. Patrick’s Day?” Travis questioned. 

“Okay,” Lucas said, lightly waving a hand to get them to quiet. “I’m going back upstairs now. I want you all to pretend that I’m not here, okay?”

“Like a secret?” Travis asked excitedly.

“No, he means he’s not working, so we can’t ask him questions or go get him for stuff,” Jawn explained.

Travis pouted. “Oh.”

“Zakk is in charge just like a normal Monday,” Lucas told them. “He’ll run the meeting and take you to music and all of that. If there’s a real emergency, you can come get me, Travis. But otherwise, I’m just here for Ashton today.” 

“Oh-kayyy,” came the glum response.

“Everything will be back to normal tomorrow.” Lucas pointed at their plates. “Now eat, and be good for Brendon and Ryan. I’ll see you all later.” He headed back up to Ashton and Travis’ room, and there was silence from upstairs. 

“So, um,” Awsten said to the guys, “what happened after I fell asleep?” 

“Mr. W read to us for a long time!” Travis told him happily.

“It wasn’t that long,” Jawn shrugged. He pushed his spoon around in his blueberry yogurt. 

“It was a lot,” Travis persisted. “He’s a real good reader. He’s real nice. I like him.”

“I like him, too,” Awsten agreed.

“I asked him if he was gonna be our tutor now ‘stead of Brendon, but he said no, he has to go to big school.” A hint of venom crept into his voice as he reported, “He said I couldn’t come with him.”

“We talked about this last night, dude,” Zakk reminded. “You have to be signed up to go to ‘big school.’ You can’t just go one day because you feel like it.”

“But why?” 

Zakk launched into an explanation about registering for classes, limited numbers of desks, and security. While Zakk was talking, Jawn said quietly to Awsten, “Mr. W _is_ really nice.” 

Awsten nodded. 

“He’s your favorite teacher?”

Awsten scratched absently at the whiskers that had started growing on his chin. “Yeah. He's the only one I like. The only one I’ve liked since, like, fourth grade, actually.” 

“He seems cool. He left you that book,” Jawn muttered. “I think it’s in the kitchen still.” 

“The book he started reading to us?”

“Yeah. The Maze Runner. He wrote something down and put it inside, but Lucas wouldn’t let us look.”

Awsten pushed his chair back from the table and started out of the room.

“Aws, where you going, man?” Zakk asked, instantly halting his conversation with Travis. 

Hw didn't bother to stop walking or look back as he answered, “To get my book.” 

“No reading at the table.”

“I know. I just want to look at it for a second.”

“Okay. And then come finish eating.” 

“Kay.” 

Awsten found the novel propped against the wall near the light switch. He picked it up and opened the front cover, and, sure enough, there was a slip of paper covered in green ink tucked inside.

 

_Awsten,_

_It was wonderful to see you today. I hope you had a nice rest. Please be sure to take better care of yourself._

_Lucas told me that you seem to have grown fond of reading, so I have decided to leave the story you chose in your care for the time being. I hope you enjoy it. This is typically a crowd favorite among boys your age, so I won’t be at all surprised if you do._

_Please remember that you are not alone, and I am here should you need anything (or even if you would just like to see more photographs of Tuna; I would be happy to e-mail some to you). I hope to spend more time with you soon._

_Mr. W_

_“Books are the quietest and most constant of friends; they are the most accessible and wisest of counselors, and the most patient of teachers.”  
_ _―_ _Charles William Eliot_

 

Awsten read through the note twice and then took a deep breath. He felt a little guilty for all the time he’d spent trying to get on Mr. W’s bad side, but he was immensely grateful for Mr. W being incredibly patient and not giving in to him. 

“Awsten?” Zakk called.

“Coming!” He slipped the note back behind the front cover and went back to his bagel.

Soon after, it was time for the morning meeting. Zakk disappeared into the office as the boys were wrapping up cleanup, and he re-emerged with the clipboard. Once they were all settled and had agreed that their safety levels were ten, he prompted, “Alright, who’s up?”

“Me,” Jawn responded. “I want to get it over with.” 

“Cool. Jawn, how are you feeling today?”

“Honestly? I’m feeling sad.” 

“Why?” 

He huffed a laugh. “I don’t know.”

“Okay, that’s okay for right now. How’s your pain?” 

“I don’t have any.”

“Depression?” 

Jawn was still for a moment. “It’s not that great,” he admitted.

“Okay,” Zakk nodded patiently. 

“Like… fifty-something. Fifty… eight.”

“I’m sorry,” Zakk told him sincerely as he wrote. 

“Thanks. And I slept for nine hours and woke up one time, and my goal for today is to not bother Ashton.”

Zakk nodded as he finished writing. “Trav? You wanna go next?” 

“Yes!” 

“Shh…”

“Oh, oops,” Travis whispered loudly.

Awsten couldn’t help but smile at him.

“I feel upset,” Travis said, “but also good.”

“Why upset, and why good?”

The answer spilled out in one breath. “Cause I don’t know what’s wrong with Ashton, and he was crying in the night, and no one will tell me what St. Patrick’s Day is, and other than them things, I’m happy. We had yogurt. I like yogurt.” 

Zakk nodded, scribbling down the response. “What kind of yogurt did you have?”

“Strawberry. It’s pink.”

“That’s your favorite color, right?” Jawn asked, and he wasn’t teasing. Just checking.

Travis nodded proudly. “My favorite color is pink.”

“It’s a good one,” Jawn agreed.

“How’s your pain?” Zakk inquired.

“I ain’t got any.”

“Depression number?”

“Five.”

“How many hours did you sleep?”

“Nine. And I didn’t wake up none.”

“Okay.”

“Wait, didn’t he just say Ash was crying overnight?” Awsten whispered to Jawn as Zakk and Travis talked about a goal for the day. 

“He was crying after dinner. ‘In the night’ in Travis speak just means when it’s dark outside,” Jawn whispered back. 

“Oh.” He glanced at Zakk, who was still talking to Travis, and then added, “Hey, do you know what’s wrong wi-”

“Guys, let’s be respectful of Travis, please.”

Both boys murmured an apology for talking out of turn.

“Aws, you’re next. How you feeling, man?”

“Um… Worried. But better.” 

“Why are you worried?”

“Um, about Ashton,” he confessed. 

Zakk just nodded. “Okay. Are you in any pain?”

“Yeah, actually… I’m kinda sore from sleeping on the couch.”

A knowing smile flitted across Zakk’s face. “Yeah, Lucas mentioned that you might be, but we figured you needed the rest. Where’s it hurting?”

“My back. And my neck a little.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he frowned. “Can you pin a number on it for me?”

“Uh, it’s - it’s out of a hundred, right?”

Everyone nodded.

“Then like a… like a twenty? Maybe a fifteen?”

“Let’s stick with twenty. I think that’s probably your more honest answer, right?”

Awsten shrugged (the pain flared as he moved his shoulders) and then nodded.

“Okay. Twenty. How’s your depression?”

“Also like a twenty.” That marked his first honest answer about that. He let out the breath he’d been holding.

Zakk gave him another little smile but didn’t comment otherwise. “And how long did you sleep last night?” He chuckled. “I checked the files this morning - it’s a Peace and Purpose record.” 

“I have no idea,” Awsten responded truthfully. 

“It was fourteen hours,” Zakk announced. 

Jawn started to applaud, and Travis enthusiastically joined in. 

“Stop it,” Awsten muttered, reaching to smush Jawn’s wrists back into his lap while trying to hide a smile.

“Hey, no touching,” Zakk warned.

Awsten quickly retracted his hands.

“Did you wake up at all overnight?”

“Nope.” 

“I’m telling you," Zak grinned, "you were hibernating like a bear!” 

Awsten sighed dramatically as Jawn and Travis laughed, but honestly, it was kind of nice. It had been a long time since anyone had felt comfortable teasing him. And in Awsten’s experience, people only made little jokes like that if they actually enjoyed being around him.

“What’s your goal for the day, big bear?” 

“To not get in trouble.” After having multiple talks with Lucas on Sunday, he figured that goal was safe again. 

“Okay, cool.” Zakk jotted that down, tossed the clipboard aside, glanced at the time on his phone, and then said, “Ry and Bren will be here any second, so I’m going to run through the schedule pretty quickly, okay? Most importantly today, we’re gonna leave Ash and Lucas alone, yeah?”

The boys nodded.

“Good. Um, school, lunch, and then it’s Music Monday.”

“Music Monday?” Awsten echoed. For once, he was actually interested in something on the schedule.

“Yep. We usually do it here, but Lucas called last night, and we’re going to meet at the park instead. After that, we have an easy afternoon. You guys can catch up on some homework or just chill, okay? Then dinner. Then you guys can hang out for a while, and then bed. Sound good?” 

They chorused their affirmations.

“Okay, cool,” he said again.

Brendon and Ryan came through the front door right on cue, Ryan silently and Brendon with a bright, “Good morning, sweet angels!” for the three boys. Zakk quickly quieted him and ushered the tutors aside while the boys were sent into the school room. As Zakk spoke, Brendon’s face fell dramatically, and Awsten watched as he sadly nodded. Brendon was able to perk back up a little as he entered the school room and took his place between Travis and Awsten, but his affect wasn’t the same as it had been in the moments before. 

Since Awsten was done with both history and English for a while and band honestly didn’t matter, all there was left to tackle were Awsten’s two least favorite subjects: math and physics. And since Awsten had a math test coming up the next morning, that eliminated physics. Luckily, Brendon had a small bribe for him. 

“Okay, my little gumdrop - if you can get through all of these questions correctly,” Brendon said mischievously, showing him the assignment sheet, “I will read to you for the last ten minutes.”

Awsten nodded determinedly, and he set to work. Of course, getting pre-calculus right - even with Brendon watching over his shoulder - was harder than it sounded, but they were still able to squeeze in seven minutes of reading time. Awsten was ecstatic. It was so much more fun being read to than it was just reading himself. 

Brendon reached for The Five People You Meet In Heaven, but Awsten stuck a hand out to stop him before he could pick it up. 

“I finished that already!”

“You did?” 

“Yeah, but my teacher brought me a new one. Can I go get it?” He hurried to hopefully tack on, “Please?”  


“Of course,” Brendon said. “Just - be quiet for Ashton!”

“I will.” Awsten opened the door and slipped toward the kitchen. 

“Aws?” Zakk called quietly from the office, which surprised Awsten; the door was only cracked open a few inches, which meant that Zakk had memorized the sound of Awsten’s footsteps. 

Awsten ducked his head into the tiny room. “I’m getting my book.” Defensively, he added, “I finished all my math, so Brendon said I could.” 

“No, yeah, man, that’s fine. I’m just checking.” 

“Kay.”

Awsten grabbed the book from the kitchen and brought it back to Brendon, who smiled. “Oh, I love this one! Where are you?” 

“The very beginning,” Awsten admitted.

“Perfect!”

 

_A loud clank rang out above him and he sucked in a startled breath as he looked up. A straight line of light appeared across the ceiling of the room, and Thomas watched as it expanded. A heavy grating sound revealed double sliding doors being forced open. After so long in darkness, the light stabbed his eyes; he looked away, covering his face with both hands. He heard noises above—voices—and fear squeezed his chest._

_“Look at that shank.”_

_“How old is he?”_

_“Looks like a klunk in a T-shirt.”_

_“You’re the klunk, shuck-face.”_

_“Dude, it smells like feet down there!”_

_“Hope you enjoyed the one-way trip, Greenie.”_

_“Ain’t no ticket back, bro.”_

_Thomas was hit with a wave of confusion, blistered with panic. The voices were odd, tinged with echo; some of the words were completely foreign—others felt familiar. He willed his eyes to adjust as he squinted toward the light and those speaking. At first he could see only shifting shadows, but they soon turned into the shapes of bodies—people bending over the hole in the ceiling, looking down at him, pointing. And then, as if the lens of a camera had sharpened its focus, the faces cleared._

_They were boys, all of them—some young, some older. Thomas didn’t know what he’d expected, but seeing those faces puzzled him. They were just teenagers. Kids. Some of his fear melted away, but not enough to calm his racing heart. Someone lowered a rope from above, the end of it tied into a big loop. Thomas hesitated, then stepped into it with his right foot and clutched the rope as he was yanked toward the sky._

_Hands reached down, lots of hands, grabbing him by his clothes, pulling him up. The world seemed to spin, a swirling mist of faces and color and light. A storm of emotions wrenched his gut, twisted and pulled; he wanted to scream, cry, throw up._

_The chorus of voices had grown silent, but someone spoke as they yanked him over the sharp edge of the dark box. And Thomas knew he’d never forget the words._

_“Nice to meet ya, shank,” the boy said. “Welcome to the Glade.”_

 

* * *

 

**Teachers’ Lounge  
** **March 17, 8:59 AM**

“I went to see Awsten over the weekend.” 

John’s eyebrows rose. 

“Please don’t say that it’s strange or inappropriate, because-”

“It’s strange and inappropriate,” John told him flatly.

“Great,” Geoff muttered, instantly shutting down. 

John sighed. “Look, Geoff, I just think-”

“No, you’ve made it perfectly clear what you think,” Geoff snapped. “I was planning to ask your advice on something partially related, but perhaps I don’t want it.” He got to his feet and lifted his cup of tea off the table. 

“Geoff… Hey, come on, man. I’m sorry.” 

Geoff waved him off and headed back to his empty classroom. Once he was at his desk, he clicked open his briefcase and pulled out the piece of paper with the list Lucas had drawn up for him. There were several phone numbers for male and female therapists specializing in trauma, times and locations of group counseling sessions, and a few web addresses. At the bottom, Lucas had scrawled ten digits and the words, “This is my cell if you need anything.” 

Geoff pressed his fingers over his mouth for a few seconds, flexed his fingers, and typed the first website into the address bar. He didn’t get more than a few sentences down the page before all he could think about was the damn coffee tray. The coffee tray that was the star of all his nightmares, all his flashbacks, all his wandering thoughts. The coffee tray he imagined at home while he brewed his mug in the morning, while he stood making his tea in the teacher’s lounge beside the coffee maker… The damn cardboard tray was everywhere. Tossed carelessly on the side of the highway. Behind the glass window in the drive-through line. In the recycling bin in his classroom. 

Geoff began to feel nauseous.  He hated the damn coffee tray, hated what it stood for, hated that something so - so _normal_ had been turned into such an awful reminder. And it popped into his head whenever it felt like he needed a reminder. “Oh, you haven’t thought about Michael in twenty-minutes,” it mocked. “Now’s the time! Remember me?” Or, “Where’s Awsten today? Gone? He’d still be here if you hadn’t let those kids read Of Mice and Men!” Or even, “You should just quit your job. You failed Michael, and you’ll probably fail the rest of these kids, too. They’d be so much better off without you.” 

Geoff pushed back from his desk and headed for his window, which faced the football field. He lifted the shade - a shade he didn’t allow to be opened anymore - and soon found himself staring blankly at the spot where he’d seen the carnage. The school had patched new turf over the ruined grass, and Geoff couldn’t wait for the different shades of green to start blending. He lost himself in his thoughts.

Forty-five minutes passed before his classroom door suddenly opened. Geoff nearly jumped out of his skin.

“Whoa, sorry,” John said, putting both hands up in surprise. 

“Don’t _do_ that!” Geoff exclaimed. Even as the words left his mouth, he knew he was overreacting, but god, his heart was hammering against his rib cage. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Hey - are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” he responded shortly. “What do you need?” 

“Nothing, I just… came to apologize.”

Geoff waved him off again, heading to his desk to close the mental health webpage before John could see it. 

“No, I really am sorry. I know what happens with Awsten is really important to you.” 

Geoff didn’t look up from the computer. 

“I may not understand it, but I know he’s like… he’s your…” John sighed. “I don’t know the word, but I get it, okay?” 

“Project?” Geoff offered dryly.

“No. I meant, like. I don’t know, like he’s your little buddy.”

Geoff scoffed.

“I told you, I don’t know the word. But if it’s not too late, I want to hear whatever it is you were going to say.” 

“It doesn’t matter.” 

“It matters to me.” 

Geoff looked up, a little astonished by the firm, sincere words from the other English teacher. 

“I know we don’t see eye to eye sometimes,” John admitted. “Well, most of the time, actually. But you’re my friend, man.”

Geoff’s eyes softened.

“You’re the only person I can trust at this school, okay? And I want to be there for you.” 

“...I accept your apology.” 

John let out a big breath. “ _Thank_ you.” He cracked a sideways smile. “God, no one else in this place knows who Gregor Samsa is. I’d go crazy without you.” 

“I think I already _am_ crazy,” Geoff murmured, and John’s face turned serious again.

“Come talk to me,” he ordered, motioning Geoff to take a seat. 

“No, the bell will ring soon.” 

John blinked in confusion. “Geoff… it’s like five minutes after nine.” 

Then it was Geoff’s turn to be confused. “Pardon?”

“You only walked out of the teacher’s lounge three minutes ago. What time did you think it was?” 

In lieu of answering, Geoff forced himself to chuckle. “Please forgive me. Time has been passing very strangely for me lately.” 

“Come talk to me,” John said again, somehow more urgent yet more gentle. 

“I need to try to get some work done,” Geoff lied. “It’s alright. Another time, perhaps.”

“No, please.” 

“Another time,” Geoff repeated, but he kept his tone warm so John would know he wasn’t angry.  
  
“You’re making me worry, you know that?” John told him, pointing a finger at Geoff as he stood.

“No need. I’ll see you at lunchtime.”

“Can’t I sit in here while you work?” 

“Now who’s being strange?” 

John sighed sadly. “I knew you were still pissed.”

“You couldn’t have known that, because it’s not true. I will see you at lunchtime.” He ushered John toward the door.

“We’re talking then!”

“We’ll see.” 

As soon as Geoff shut the door behind him, his heart sank into his stomach. He should have taken advantage of someone wanting to listen. It may not have gone particularly well with Lucas the day before, and it may have actually made things a bit worse for the moment, but Geoff knew that overall, the experience had been good for him. Lucas' outside perspective had been surprisingly helpful. John's inside perspective might have been beneficial, as well.

Geoff collapsed down into the desk chair and re-opened the [page](http://www.apa.org/helpcenter/mass-shooting.aspx) about ‘managing your distress in the aftermath of a shooting,’ but he couldn’t focus enough to read the line about how he might have trouble focusing. Instead, he turned back to the sheet of paper he’d received the day prior and stared at it for what might have been a few minutes or somewhere around fifteen seconds. In the end, he wound up dialing Lucas’ phone number.

“Hello,” he said softly into the voicemail recording. “This is Geoff Wigington, Awsten’s English teacher from Lakeview High School. I am looking at the list you gave me, but, admittedly, it has been a challenge attempting to concentrate enough to do any effective research. I am aware that this is too much to ask, but if you could…” He trailed off, suddenly feeling too tired to even finish his sentence. All he wanted in the world was to hang up the phone, but he couldn’t very well do that. “Pardon me. If you would be willing to direct me to a single starting place - just whatever you think might be best - I would be so grateful. Thank you so much. I’m so sorry to bother you. Thank you. Goodbye.” 

He hung up the phone and buried his face in his hands. 

Time crawled on.

 

* * *

 

 **Peace and Purpose Home for Young Men - Entry**  
**March 17, 12:02 PM**

By the time the tutors declared class finished for the day and the boys emerged from the school room for a well-deserved lunch, the sun was high in the sky. Awsten inhaled through his nose and could smell something amazing in the kitchen. He wanted to rush in to see what it could be, but he waited because while Ryan packed up his things, Brendon was busy giving the boys tight hugs, and he didn’t want to miss out on his. 

“Goodbye, honey bunch!” Brendon cried as he hugged Travis. “I’m so proud of how your essay is coming along.”

Travis beamed. “Goodbye, honey bunch!” he said happily back, making everyone laugh.

“Shh,” Ryan reminded the group softly.

Right after Awsten had received his embrace and before Jawn was given his, Ashton poked his head out of the kitchen. Awsten was the only one who spotted him right away. He took in the bloodshot eyes and the way Ashton looked like he physically felt under the weather. Ashton noticed Awsten looking and gave him a timid wave. Awsten waved back.

When Ashton opened his mouth to speak a moment later, no sound came out. He started walking toward the group and quietly cleared his throat. “Ryan,” he murmured, and everyone turned.

“Ash!” Travis grinned.

“Hey, Travis,” Ashton said softly, not quite making eye contact. He continued toward his tutor and only stopped when he got a few feet in front of him. “Sorry I didn’t come to school today.”

Lucas appeared in the doorway and called the other boys to the kitchen. Awsten, of course, lingered a little behind to eavesdrop. Brendon was doing the same thing near the front door, pretending to have an immensely difficult time finding the clunky car key on his small keyring. 

Ryan ducked down a few inches to get closer to Ashton’s height. “Hey, it’s fine,” he told him sincerely. “It’s that time of year again, isn’t it?” he asked, a frown spreading across his lips.

Ashton nodded.

“I’m sorry. Are you looking after yourself?”

“Uh, I’m trying. But Lucas is picking up the slack.” 

Ryan nodded. “Good. I’ll see you when you feel ready to come back, okay? No rush.” 

Ashton nodded. He grabbed Ryan in a quick hug, clearly shocking the stony tutor, and then returned to the kitchen. 

“So,” Lucas was explaining, “Ashton asked if he could prepare lunch for all of you while you were at school.” 

“Thank you,” Jawn said to Ashton, a serious expression on his face. 

Ashton nodded and tried to smile. 

Lucas continued, “We made mini pizzas as a surprise for you guys.” 

So _that’s_ what the heavenly aroma was. 

“They’re all cheese,” Ashton noted softly, “but I put some pepperoni out on the counter a second ago in case you want it. There’s vegetables in the fridge, too.” 

“The only thing left do is set the table, so you gentlemen can start on that,” Lucas told them.

Awsten grabbed a small stack of napkins and headed to the dining room. He started laying them out as, across the table, Jawn placed glasses at each chair. Ashton wandered through the dining room toward the entry, but Awsten stopped him. 

“Hey,” he said, and both Ashton and Jawn paused. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I just wanted to say I’m sorry. You look really fucking sad.” 

Ashton forced the corners of his lips up. “Thanks. Um… just so you’re not wondering, it’s the second anniversary of the day my parents and my little brother died.”

Awsten froze.

“It was a car accident... They were out at night, and they got hit by a drunk driver.” Ashton tried again to smile but gave up after barely a single second, leaving the room in silence. As he padded to the staircase and up the steps, Awsten’s eyes slid to Jawn, who suddenly looked flustered and beside himself with guilt. 

“Two fatal car accidents, huh?” Awsten muttered for only Jawn to hear.

Jawn gaped up at Awsten for a moment before slamming the glass in his hand onto the table and disappearing into the bathroom. Luckily for Jawn, Lucas didn’t seem to have noticed anything. The head of the house followed Ashton up the stairs a moment later.

Awsten was only angry at Jawn for a flash. He wasn't sure what had caused Jawn to lie, but Awsten knew that he'd hidden things, too, like what had happened to his mom. And at the moment, after all the math, he was too apathetic to care.  Jawn, on the other hand, remained in the bathroom until Zakk called for him, warning him that his pizza would get cold. He sat at the table like he’d been asked, but he remained silent, staring emptily at his plate and just picking at the treat as Travis, Awsten, and Zakk chattered away. 

 

* * *

 

**The Park  
** **March 17, 1:59 PM**

“Hey, man!”

Zakk lifted a hand to the guy that was jogging over, and he leaned slightly toward the boys and murmured, “This is Dom. He’s the new music therapist.”

Jawn stopped in his tracks. “What?! No! Are you kidding me?”

Zakk didn’t respond. 

Awsten was a little disappointed, too; the whole way over, he’d been hearing about Cady, the tiny, sweet, midwestern mermaid of a music therapist whom Jawn was apparently set on marrying. Zakk had reminded Jawn that Cady was already happily engaged, but Jawn didn’t seem interested in that detail. 

“Wazzup, mates!” Dom crowed, a radiant smile on his face.

“Mates!” Travis repeated happily to Zakk. “Like Ashton says!”

“My name’s Dom, and I’m new here, and I’m pumped to work with you guys! Who are all ya?” 

“I’m Awsten,” Awsten replied.

“Travis!” 

“And I’m Jawn.” Jawn glanced back at Zakk in annoyance and crossed his arms over his chest. “Where’s Cady?”

Dom caught the words, but he didn’t seem offended in the slightest. “Ah, she’s takin’ a break, man. She’s tryin’ to… what did she say? Re-orient herself or somethin’?” He clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “But whaddaya say, shall we get started? I got some fun stuff for ya’s today.”

“Yes!” Travis responded.

“Alright, sick! Follow me.” He ran - literally ran - several feet over to a blanket spread in the grass, and it was only then that Awsten noticed that he was wearing bright pink socks. 

Travis chased after Dom, and Zakk followed them. Awsten glanced at Jawn, an amused expression on his face. Dom reminded him of a bouncy ball. 

“Awllllriiiight,” Dom grinned once all of the boys had made their way over. “I’m thinkin’ of a number between one and ten. Everybody close your eyes, man, but not you, Zakk. I’m gonna show you the number on my fingers, okay? The rest of ya, close them eyes up tight.” 

Awsten obeyed, and there was quiet for a second. Then Zakk said, “Okay.” 

“Okay!” Dom echoed. “You can open your eyes, mates. Zakk knows the number. Now I want you to yell out your guess, and whoever gets closest to the number I picked gets to go first.”

“TEN!” Travis shouted.

“Seven,” Awsten said firmly. He was sure he was right. It seemed like everyone always picked seven for those types of things. 

Jawn took a moment to run through his best options on his fingers before settling on six.

“You’re the closest!” Dom said, looking at Jawn. “Zakk, tell him the number.”

“One.”

“Aww,” Travis moaned.

“What’s your name again, man?” Dom asked eagerly.

“Jawn.”

“Jawn! Got it. Jawn, you get to pick first. Come over here.”

“No fair!” Travis cried. 

As Zakk explained to Travis exactly why it _was_ fair, Jawn reluctantly headed over to where Dom was unzipping a large, black bag. Awsten tried to peek inside, but from his spot on the blanket, he couldn’t see. He settled for trying to read Jawn’s expression instead. Again, Jawn took his time, this time peering in to examine whatever was in the bag. He eventually pulled out a kind of wooden shaker that Awsten recognized from elementary school. 

“Ah, the [cabasa](https://imgur.com/YRTlPy3)!” Dom clapped. “Great choice.” His eyes panned over to Awsten. “Awsten, right?” 

Awsten nodded.

“You were the next closest, so you’re up.” Dom smiled and motioned him forward.

Awsten crawled on his knees across the blanket as Zakk dealt swiftly with Travis’ next round of protests. Inside the bag were several percussion instruments, all carelessly dumped in. Awsten was briefly amused by the thought of how much noise it must have made when Dom carried it to the grass from his car. Maracas, shakers, rhythm sticks, cymbals -

“Sweet,” Awsten muttered, reaching in.

“Find something ya like?” Dom asked hopefully.

Awsten pulled out a red tambourine and gave it a little shake.

“Nice!”

“Oooh,” Travis whispered.

“There’s so much cool stuff in there,” Awsten told him as he headed back to his spot. “It’s your turn now.” 

“Yeah, man, it’s your turn now!” Dom repeated, beckoning him over.

Travis bounded to the bag and started touching everything inside. He yanked out a [rattle drum](https://imgur.com/9WZsWEd), and Dom praised, “Good choice!”

“Oh, he’ll love that one,” Zakk said with a chuckle. 

“Zakk, you too, man,” Dom said, and Zakk looked surprised. 

“Really? Thanks.” He went over to the bag while Travis started using his open palm to wildly bang on his drum. 

“Hey, man, I like that sound,” Dom grinned. 

Travis looked up excitedly. 

“Can I borrow your drum for a second? Show you something really sick?”

“Really sick?” Travis echoed with wide eyes, holding the drum close to his chest. 

“It means ‘cool,’” Jawn told him.

“Oh.” Travis looked cautiously at Dom. “Are you gonna give it back to me?” 

“Of course, man! It’s all yours. Just wanna show you why you picked one of my faves, ya know?” 

Travis passed it to him, and Dom set the stick between his fingertips. “Check this out.” He rolled it back and forth a few times, and the wooden balls attached to the strings flung through the air and straight into the surface of the drum, creating several rapid bangs. 

“Whoa! Gimme, gimme!” Travis exclaimed, bouncing and holding out his hands.

Dom laughed, his head thrown back. “Here ya go, mate.” 

Awsten tapped his fingers absently against the tambourine, and Jawn was tracing the silver beads on his cabasa with his nails while he waited. Travis, who was now using the drum correctly - and loudly - was clearly having a lot of fun. Zakk had chosen a snare boy, and Dom was messing with his phone. 

“Okay!” Dom crowed, waving his hand for silence.  He held up his phone. “I got songs on here that will go through this speaker,” he said, pointing at a hot pink block by his knee that Awsten hadn’t noticed. “We’re gonna drum along to them - and you can get as crazy as you want! Don’t feel like you’re stuck doing something boring. This is your time to show everybody what you got. After a song, we’re gonna switch instruments.”

“What kind of songs?” Jawn asked skeptically.

“Well, I was thinking I could open that up to you guys,” Dom shrugged, feigning nonchalance. Then he peeked back up at Jawn, unable to conceal his grin. “Does that sound fun?”

“Yeah,” Jawn responded honestly. 

“Cool, man! Let’s go in backwards order. Travis, right?” he checked, and Travis nodded excitedly. “You’re up, man. What song do you wanna hear?” 

“Ow Sitting!” came the immediate response.

“What?” Dom asked, leaning forward as if to hear him better. 

“Owl City,” Zakk corrected with a small smile. He looked at Travis and inquired knowingly, “Hey, you wanna hear Speed of Love?” 

“Yeah!”

“Coming right up!” Dom said. A few clicks on his phone, and the song was coming through the powerful speaker.

“Yay!” Travis cheered.

“Alright, let’s hear those drums!” 

Travis didn’t need any more instruction; he began doing his best to slam the drum, and he seemed extremely pleased with the results he was getting. Zakk lightly sang along to the music, gently pounding his own drum to the rhythm with a mallet while Jawn halfheartedly shook his cabasa. While Awsten was showing off with the tambourine, Dom dug into his bag for some finger cymbals so he could play along. 

The beat came fully in after a minute or so, and Awsten started to dance a little in his spot, which earned him some smiles. That was all the encouragement he needed to get on his feet and drag Travis up with him.

“What are you doing?” Travis asked, confused.

“Dance, dude!” Awsten demonstrated a messy arm wave and then spun around on one of his heels. 

Travis giggled and began trying to imitate Awsten. 

“Yeah!” Dom praised. “Yeaaahhh!” He dinged his cymbals together harder. 

When the song ended and Awsten was slightly out of breath, Zakk chuckled, slipped something into his pocket, and said, “Lucas will be thrilled to see that.” 

“See what?” Travis and Awsten asked together.

“He was videoing you guys,” Jawn told them.

“Oh, no!” Awsten laughed at the same time Travis exclaimed, “Can I see?!”  


“Later, okay? I think it’s Awsten’s turn now.”

“Almost,” Dom nodded. “First we gotta switch it up. Everything back in the bag.” They obeyed, and Dom directed, “Cover your ears.” 

Once all the ears were safe under hands, Dom started violently shaking the bag, mixing all the instruments up. Awsten was so surprised that he laughed. No wonder it was such a mess in there. 

“Awsten, come pick out whatever you want, man,” Dom said once he decided he was done.

Awsten had already decided what he’d wanted next, and he was excited about the guarantee of getting it that came with being able to choose first. After all the instruments were chosen, it was time for Awsten to select his song. 

“Whaddaya wanna hear?” Dom asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

“I’m Just a Kid by Simple Plan.”

“Nice!” Dom exclaimed.

“I love that one,” Zakk affirmed. 

Jawn started singing before Dom even had the music on. “I woke up, it was seven!”

Awsten joined in. “I waited til eleven!”

“Okay, hang on, hang on, mate,” Dom laughed.

“You like that song?” Awsten asked Jawn brightly.

“I love it! It’s my favorite song ever.”

Awsten gaped at him. “Me, too!” 

Within a moment, the music began flowing through the speaker, and that time, it was more of a sing-along than anything. Travis was the only one who didn’t know every word by heart, but he didn’t mind at all. He was busy enthusiastically smacking the triangle dangling from his hand. 

Awsten had abandoned one of his maracas and was pretending that the other was a microphone, but Jawn was actually into the drum he’d chosen that time. Jawn fed off Awsten’s energy, though, and by the time the bridge rolled around, the pair was squashed side by side, singing at the top of their lungs. They were both overdoing the silliness, but they were laughing, and for Awsten, it was the first time in a long time that he’d had so much fun. 

The song ended, and Awsten gave Jawn a big grin. 

“That was awesome,” Jawn declared. 

“Come switch it up!” Dom called out, and the boys all tossed their things back into the bag and covered their ears. “Jawn, what song d'you wanna hear next? What's a good song for drumming?” 

“Oh, I don’t know. Um…”  He looked to Awsten for help.

“blink-182,” Awsten said matter-of-factly.

“I don’t know about that,” Dom said hesitantly.

“Actually,” Zakk piped up, “First Date is clean. Does that work, Jawn?” 

“Yeah!”

“Nice! I’ll take your word for it!” Dom set the music up, and after that song, Zakk got a turn, too. After that, they did a second round, but in Awsten’s opinion, the therapy session was over all too soon.

“I’m sorry I complained when we got here," Jawn apologized as they helped Dom pack up his things. “Cady may be hotter than you, but you're _way_ more fun.”

Zakk covered his face with both hands in an attempt to conceal his laughter. 

“I’ll take it!” Dom chuckled. "Thanks, man. I had fun with you lot, too.” Travis rushed forward for a hug, and Dom smiled and squeezed him tightly, rocking him wildly back and forth. “Bye, mate!”

“Bye!”

As the group parted ways with Dom, Awsten caught up to Zakk. “Do we get to do that every Monday?”

“Yep. Did you like it?”

“Yeah, that was so fun!” 

“Wow.” He looked at all the boys as they started the walk back. “So, rave reviews for Dom, huh?” 

Awsten and Jawn nodded.

Travis wondered, “What’s that?”

“Did you like him a lot?” Zakk reiterated.

“Yes!”

“ _Ha!_ ”

“What?” Jawn asked.

Zakk grinned. “I hired him.”

 

* * *

 

 **Peace and Purpose Home for Young Men - Kitchen**  
**March 17, 3:38 PM**

When the group returned to the house and entered through the back door, they could hear Ashton crying upstairs. Awsten’s stomach sank.

“Why don’t we go in the game room?” Zakk suggested. “I’ll turn on a movie for you guys if you want. We can start dinner when it's done.” 

They nodded. 

“Can we watch the one with all them cats that play the piano?” Travis asked.

“No, that one’s boring,” Jawn protested.

“How bout the one with the frogs that sing and the big ol’ alligator and the bug that loves the moon?” 

“Not a _princess movie._ ”

“Okay, shh, come on,” Zakk whispered, ushering them inside. 

Awsten closed the game room door behind them. “Can I have some paper?” he asked.

“Sure. Let me get this set up, and I’ll bring you some, okay?” 

“Kay,” he replied softly. 

Jawn and Travis continued debating movies. Or rather, Travis excitedly suggested a movie, and Jawn carelessly shot it down. 

“Okay,” Zakk interrupted when he’d had enough. “Aladdin or Lilo & Stitch?”

“Aladdin,” Jawn said firmly as Travis crowed, “Lilo & Stitch!”

“Awsten?” Zakk inquired.

“I don’t care,” Awsten answered honestly. 

“Alright. We’re gonna watch Aladdin.” 

Jawn smiled in relief.

Travis sat up close under the TV, and Jawn kicked back on the couch. Awsten selected the spot on the floor where Otto had been the previous Thursday. God, he wished Otto were there right then. _Three more days_ , he reminded himself.

Once the DVD had been popped in and Zakk had pressed play, Awsten quietly asked again for a piece of paper. 

“Do you want blank paper or lined paper?”

“Either. Oh, and a pen.”

“And a pen what?”

“And a pen, please,” he corrected.

Zakk nodded. “Okay. I’ll be right back. Does anybody else need anything?” 

“Food?” Jawn asked hopefully.

“Popcorn?” Zakk checked.

That was met with a strong yes. 

Zakk was back in a few minutes with some notebook paper, a pencil, and word that the popcorn was in the microwave. 

Awsten swallowed anxiously. “Don’t let it burn, okay?”

“I won’t. We make popcorn all the time here; I’ve got it down to a science.”

Travis and Jawn nodded in affirmation.

“Just don’t burn it,” Awsten pleaded. “I don’t want to get in trouble.” 

“Why would anyone get in trouble for that?” Jawn wondered.

Zakk glanced at Awsten’s stressed expression and then shut the conversation down by assuring, “I’ll go check on it right now.” 

While he was gone, Awsten said, “Hey, Trav, can you pass me a DVD case? It doesn’t matter which one.”

Travis took a moment to locate the Princess and the Frog case and then crawled across the carpet to hand it to Awsten. 

“Thanks.” 

Travis settled beside him, too close, but Awsten only moved a few inches away.

“Whatcha working on? School?”

“No, I’m going to write a note for Ashton.”

“Why?”

“Cause it might make him feel better. Even just for a second.”

A thoughtful look crossed Travis’ face as he asked, “How do you know?” 

Awsten forced himself to relax. He gave Travis a small smile. “Because some people did that for me once when I was feeling down, and it actually helped.”

“Can I do it, too?” he asked eagerly.

“Sure,” Awsten nodded. “I’ll give it to you when I’m done, and you can do the back.” 

“Um,” Jawn said awkwardly, and Awsten glanced back at him.

“You can add to it, too, if you want.”

Jawn nodded. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Awsten set to work, and Zakk came back with the popcorn. He’d made little bowls for each of the boys so they didn’t have to share one big one. When he passed one to Awsten, he leaned down to peek at the piece of paper. “What are you making?”

“A note for Ash,” he replied, not looking up.

“That’s a great idea, man.” 

The movie played on the TV screen, and it took Awsten nearly thirty minutes to write his few sentences because he kept getting distracted by the songs and the colors (and the little monkey), but eventually he flipped the page over and handed it, the pencil, and the DVD case to Travis.

“I’m gonna make a picture!” Travis declared.

“That sounds good,” Awsten told him. “Just keep it on the blank side, okay?”

“Yeah, and leave space for me,” Jawn told him.

“Okay!” Travis positioned the pencil point right over the paper's center.

“Wait!” Jawn cried. “Here; let’s do it like this.”

Travis watched as Jawn climbed down to the floor and took the pencil. 

“Here,” he repeated, and he drew a line across the middle of the page. “This is your side,” he said, pointing, “and this is mine. Stay on this side so there’s room for both of us.”

“And we’ll give Ashton a page together?” Travis asked.

“Right.”

“Sick!”

Everyone laughed.

“Aws, this was a great idea,” Zakk declared during dinner prep when the boys had let him see their finished work. “Ash will love it.”

“I hope so,” Awsten shrugged. He rubbed his sweatshirt sleeve over his cheek, where his stubble had been annoying him on and off for the past few hours. 

“You need to shave, don’t you?” Zakk observed.

Awsten nodded.

“Okay. We can grab the stuff from Lucas’ room before bed. Just remind me. We’ll need the razor back when you’re done, okay?”

“Why?”

Jawn muttered something, but Awsten didn’t catch it over Zakk responding, “Safety reasons.” 

“Oh. Okay.”

“We’ll keep one with your name on it, so don’t worry about other people using it or anything like that. We just need to keep them out of reach. It’s policy.”

Awsten nodded.

The oven timer went off, and there was a flurry of motion around the kitchen as oven mitts were grabbed, space was cleared on the counter, and several plates and bowls were carried to the dining room table. Once everything calmed down and everyone was seated (minus Ashton and Lucas), Zakk requested that Jawn say grace.

“Dear God,” Jawn began quietly, “please be with Ashton today, and be with Lucas as he tries to help Ashton feel better.” 

Awsten opened his eyes to look at his roommate, but Jawn had his hands folded and his eyes shut. Awsten closed his eyes again.

“And thanks for the dinner we have. Please make sure Ashton gets to eat some of it. Amen.”

“Amen,” they echoed.

“That was really, really nice, Jawn,” Zakk told him genuinely.

Jawn blushed and hurried to look down at his lap. 

Awsten busied himself trying to twirl a long fettuccine noodle around his fork. 

“Who wants to start high-lows?” Zakk prompted.

“Me!” Travis cried.

“Alright. Take it away, T.”

“My high was music!”

Zakk nodded and took a bite. “Why?” 

“I liked hearing Ow Sitting and dancing with Awsten!”

Awsten grinned. “I liked dancing, too.”

“My other high was watching Aladdin, and Jawn sharing a paper with me!” 

A surprised expression graced Jawn’s features. Awsten gave him a little nudge under the table. 

“That’s great,” Zakk smiled. “And a low?”

“I didn’t like how Ashton was crying.” 

Zakk nodded. “He’s feeling a lot of sadness today, I think.” 

“I don’t want him to be sad,” Travis whispered, and Awsten could sense by Travis’ tone just how heavily it was weighing on him.

“It’s hard to watch our friends hurt,” Zakk acknowledged, “but sometimes hard things happen. And you know that it’ll pass, and soon he’ll be okay again But right now he’s not, and we need to be there for him. You guys did a very nice job on your card; I think that’s a great way for you to show that you’re supporting him and you care about what’s going on right now even though you weren’t allowed to physically be with him today.”

“Is he gonna cry in the night some more?”

“I don’t know,” Zakk answered honestly. “That depends on how he’s feeling. But if he does, you know that you can come get Lucas or me, just like last night. Right?”

Travis nodded.

“Okay. Who’s next?”

Awsten and Jawn glanced at each other.

“Awsten, why don’t you take a turn?”

“Okay. Um. My high was hearing the music, too, cause I haven’t heard songs like that in forever. And my low was Ashton being upset. But I know you’re right, and he’ll be okay. Also studying for my test tomorrow kind of sucked.” 

“Do you feel ready?”

Awsten shrugged. “I guess.”

“What’s your test on?”

“Math stuff.” He made a face.

Before Zakk could respond again, Jawn cut in. “My high was music and watching Aladdin, and my low was that me and Awsten had kind of an angry moment earlier today.”

Awsten nodded, and Zakk looked surprised. “What happened, if you want to share?”

“Um,” Jawn murmured uncomfortably. “He caught me in a lie.”

Zakk raised his eyebrows.

“A big lie,” Awsten added candidly. He took another bite.

“We haven’t talked about it yet,” Jawn continued, “but, um. I think we will later. I’m mostly… really glad he didn’t get actually mad.”

“I _am_ actually mad,” Awsten informed. “I just didn’t freak out cause I just wanna know what the hell is going on.”

“Awsten, you’ve really got to stop with the cursing,” Zakk told him.

“I’m sorry,” Awsten said quickly, and he did mean it that time. “I’ll work on it.”

“Next time it happens, we’re going to start having consequences.”

Awsten nodded. “Okay. I’ll do better.” 

“Thank you.” Zakk reverted back to the original topic. “You guys are gonna talk after dinner?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Jawn said hesitantly, glancing at Awsten. “I mean, we didn’t, like… plan it, but… We sometimes talk in our room.” 

“Yeah,” Awsten agreed.

“Alright. Well, if you guys wanna hang down here in the game room and work through things, I’d be happy to make sure Travis and I can give you some privacy.” 

Jawn shrugged. “Okay. thanks.”

The conversation shifted off of Awsten and Jawn to Dom and music therapy, which provided enough discussion to get all the fettuccine, green beans, and bread eaten. That night, Awsten was in charge of loading the dishwasher, which he thought was the best and easiest job, so he was glad. But after that was over, Jawn and Awsten met up in the game room, and, with Zakk’s permission, closed the door.

“So,” Jawn sighed.

“So,” Awsten repeated blandly, taking a seat on the arm of the couch.

“I’m sorry,” Jawn blurted. 

“Why?”

“For lying.”

Awsten shook his head. “I don’t give a fuck that you lied. The problem is that you told me Ashton’s story instead of yours. That’s a really shitty thing to do. Not just to me, but to him.”

“Well, I didn’t want to tell you the truth.”

“Then why didn’t you just say that?” Awsten asked exasperatedly. “Look, dude, I didn’t even ask you what you were here for. I haven’t asked anybody. It’s not my fucking business, just like it’s not your business to ask me.”

“I know,” he whispered.

“So you made up some bullshit sob story about a car crash and dead parents that turned out not to be a bullshit sob story at all.”

Jawn stared at his feet.

“I think you only told me that to force me to feel guilty enough to tell you why I’m here.” 

Jawn didn’t speak.

“So I’m right.” 

He remained silent.

Awsten sighed and scratched at his whiskers. “Fuck, man. Why would you do that?” 

“Because!” 

Awsten held his hands out to the sides in frustration. He suddenly understood why adults got so annoyed with him when he’d use ‘because’ as his answer. It didn’t explain _anything_.

“Because Calum was my best friend, but he left, and then I didn’t have anybody!”

“So your plan was to lie?”

“No. My plan was to tell you something personal so _you_ would tell _me_ something personal, and then we would be friends.”

“So… you manipulated me into telling you a secret so that we could hang out?”

Jawn sighed. “I mean... yeah?”

“That makes no sense.”

Jawn let out a frustrated sound.

“Why didn’t you just not ask me? If you didn’t want me to know what you’re actually doing here- which I guess I still don’t, by the way - why would we just not talk about it?” 

Jawn’s hands drifted up to hide his face.

“Dude, don’t cry.”

“I’m not,” Jawn snapped, and he removed his hands to prove it. “God, I wanted to know you, alright? I wanted to know you, and I wanted to know you better than everyone else did.”

“So it’s a competitive thing.”

“Yes.”

Awsten shook his head wearily. “I fucking don’t get you.”

Jawn deflated. “No one does. Even _I_ don't get me.”

Awsten just stared at him.

“I don’t know why I’m telling you the truth,” Jawn sighed, forcing an empty laugh.

“Because you owe me that much. For lying, but for also putting Ashton’s story out there like it was yours. Like it means nothing.” 

There was a long pause.

“So,” Jawn muttered. 

Awsten sighed. 

“Do you hate me now?”

“No, I don’t hate you. Just - why do you do this shit?”

“It’s a long story.”

“Well, Zakk said to take our time.” 

Jawn shook his head and walked over to the other end of the couch. He crashed down onto it and put his feet up. Awsten stared at him. 

“Look,” Awsten finally said. “I haven’t lied to you. I haven’t brought up your issues at dinner like a fucking child. This stupid shit you came up with about swapping personal stories or whatever isn’t the only way to make friends. Have you ever heard of, like. Being nice? We’re stuck with each other. You might as well be cool.” 

“You’re kind of acting like a jerk right now,” Jawn told him.

“I’m being honest,” Awsten retorted frankly, “and you deserve it, so. Anyway, if you had just been nice to me, this would have been a lot easier. None of this would have happened. You think I’m making you mad, but I’m just calling you on your bullshit. You’re the one making _me_ mad. So can you just - I don’t know, be normal?”

“No, I can’t,” Jawn snapped. “I try, okay? My brain isn’t wired that way.”

“Your brain isn’t wired to be nice,” Awsten echoed blankly.

“Ugh! You don’t understand!” 

Awsten shook his head out of aggravation and got up, headed for the door. “I’m going upstairs.”

“Wait!” 

He turned back. “What?”

“Just - give me one more chance.”

“Why?” 

“Because… because…” 

Awsten waited.

“I don’t know. I just want to be friends, okay? Ashton and Travis are friends, and so I want to be friends with you. I’ll be nice. I’ll do your stuff at dinner if you want. I’ll-”

“No, you’re not doing my stuff at dinner,” Awsten sighed. He needed friends, too. And Jawn may not have been a good choice, but as he’d said himself, they were stuck with each other whether they liked it or not. “Just stop manipulating everything, okay? We had fun today at music, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then let’s just be like that. Just be normal. Be nice.” 

“Okay,” Jawn agreed, nodding quickly. 

“Okay.”

“So... we’re good?”

“Yeah, we’re good.” Awsten held out a fist, and Jawn bumped it. “Let’s go give Ashton his note.”

They walked together out of the room and toward the kitchen, where Zakk was chatting with Travis. He stopped when he saw the pair. “Hey, guys. Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Awsten replied.

Jawn inquired, “Can we give Ashton the thing we made?”

“Let me go see how he’s doing,” Zakk said, and he disappeared up the stairs. 

“Did you two have a fist fight?” Travis asked curiously.

Jawn and Awsten glanced at each other. 

“Uh, no?” Awsten said. 

“Oh.”

There was silence until Zakk came back. “So, Ashton doesn’t feel up to seeing anybody right now,” he reported, “but Lucas offered to read him the card if that’s okay.”

“Yeah, that’s fine with me,” Awsten said. “The whole point of it - at least for me - is to make him feel better when he’s feeling sad. So.”

Jawn and Travis nodded.

“Alright. I’ll bring up.”

“Are me and Jawn allowed to go to our room?” Awsten inquired.

“I don’t see why not.”

Zakk started back up the stairs, this time with the paper in his hand, and Awsten motioned for Jawn to follow.

“What are we doing up here?” Jawn whispered once they got to the second floor and inside their doorway.

“Listening,” Awsten whispered back.

Jawn mouthed, “Ohhhh.”

“Thanks,” they heard Lucas say to Zakk. “Is everything good downstairs?”

“We’ve got a lot to talk about after the boys go to bed.”

Lucas’ reply was as casual as ever. “Alright.”

Zakk’s footsteps retreated down the steps, and Ashton sniffled a bit as Lucas adjusted the paper. There was a click, and then orange light flooded the landing. 

“Alright, let’s see.” The squeak of bedsprings filled the air, and then Lucas’ gentle voice began to read. “Dear Ashton… I’m so sorry about your family. I had no idea. I can’t imagine how hard it must be to have something like that happen and it was all of a sudden too. I’m really sorry. You are a good friend to everyone and I wish that hadn’t happened to you but I’m glad I got to know you. I’m glad we are friends. You’re so smart and the nicest one here. Please stay strong and remember that me and all the other guys love you. I’m older than you but I look up to you since you're so nice. I'm trying to be like that too. I hope you feel better soon. Love, Awsten.” 

Ashton was crying by the time Lucas was finished, and Awsten was frozen to his spot for fear that this had been a terrible, terrible idea. But then-

“That’s so sweet,” Ashton sobbed. He raised his voice. “Awsten!”

Awsten swallowed and started for the doorway. He paused under the arch, looking back, and made eye contact with Jawn, who looked just as anxious. Then he continued to Ashton and Travis’ room.

Lucas was sitting comfortably on the side of the bed. “Hey.”

Awsten lifted his hand in a hesitant wave. 

“Thank you,” came Ashton’s wobbly voice. He pushed himself up to sit, and Awsten laid eyes on him for the first time since lunch. Somehow, he looked ten times worse.

Awsten did his best to smile. 

“Can I hug him?” Ashton pleaded with Lucas.

Lucas hesitated for several seconds and then sighed. “Just this once.”

Relieved, Awsten stepped forward, and the two boys wrapped their arms around each other. 

“I’m so sorry, Ash,” Awsten murmured.

Ashton nodded, his body quaking with sobs under Awsten's hands. “Thank you. Me, too. I miss them so much. I miss them, and I'll never see them again.” 

Awsten shut his eyes.

“You’re so lucky you have a family.” 

The words were like a knife in Awsten’s heart. He squeezed Ashton tighter. “They found me. A family will find you, too.”

“I could never replace them,” Ashton said softly, letting go of Awsten so he could use his fingertips to wipe his face. 

“No, you wouldn’t be replacing them,” Lucas cut in warmly. “I think Awsten’s just saying that there are more people out there to love. Right?”

Awsten nodded. 

“Thank you for the letter." 

“You’re welcome.” He shifted his weight onto his other leg and then said to Lucas, “There’s more stuff on the back. Travis and Jawn drew some pictures.” 

Lucas flipped it over. On one side of the page, Travis had created some sort of swirly heart doodle. On the other side, Jawn had spent nearly forty-five minutes sketching a detailed portrait of himself beside Ashton. One of Ashton’s arms was around Jawn’s shoulders, and Jawn was giving Ashton little bunny ears, and they were laughing. Jawn had labelled the drawing with the boys’ names (as if anyone wouldn’t have been able to tell exactly who was in the picture) and scribbled his initials and the year underneath. 

Ashton started to cry all over again. To Lucas, he said, “This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

Lucas smiled. 

“You guys have all been so nice to me today. Lucas, you, too, I just…” He sniffed loudly. 

“Cause we care about you,” Awsten said with a little shrug.

Ashton nodded, taking the information in. Then he pointed at the paper and said quietly, “I’m keeping that forever.”

Awsten smiled. “I’m glad you like it. Um, I’m gonna go, but… Feel better.”

“Thanks.”

“Thank you, Awsten,” Lucas added. 

Awsten nodded and left the room. He was stopped on the landing by Zakk, who had shaving cream and a disposable razor in his grasp. Awsten moved his hand forward to take the items, but Zakk pulled them out of reach. “I need these back before you go to sleep,” he warned.

“I remember.”

Zakk handed him the stuff. “Okay. Be careful. Um, and go ahead and start getting ready for bed. We’ll have the meeting in a little bit.”

“Okay.”

“Tell Jawn, too, please.”

Awsten nodded and headed into the bedroom with the razor in his hand.

“What did Ash say?” Jawn inquired with wide eyes. He was sitting on the edge of his bed clutching a bath towel in his lap. 

“He liked the letter, I think. Lucas let him hug me. But yeah, he definitely loved your art.” Ashton hadn’t said it explicitly, but Awsten had seen the look on Ashton’s face when his eyes landed on it. “You’re really talented, dude. I see you drawing and stuff during quiet time, but I’ve never seen a finished one.”

Jawn reddened. “Uh, thanks. It’s just… a hobby.” 

“Well, you’re pretty amazing.” 

“Thanks,” he said again. Then, “I’m gonna take a shower.”

“Okay. It sounds like we’re doing the meeting a little early tonight, cause Zakk said it’s almost time.” 

“Kay. I’ll go quick.” Jawn’s eyes traveled to the razor. “You shaving tonight?”

“Yeah.”

Jawn nodded. “Alright. Uh, I’m gonna go. See you in a minute.” 

While Jawn showered, Awsten started running hot water in the sink. Soon, his skin was smooth again, and he couldn't stop touching his jaw. He'd missed this. He used to shave every day, which had been more of a habit than an actual preference. But after the hair was gone, he felt a little more like himself again. 

 


	15. Eavesdropping

**Peace and Purpose Home for Young Men - Shower**  
**March 18, 6:42 AM**

“I’m just a kid, and life is a nightmare,” Awsten sang softly as hot water cascaded to the floor around him. “I’m just a kid, I know that it’s not fair. Nobody cares, cause I’m alone and-”

“Awsten,” Lucas called, knocking curtly at the door.

Awsten immediately ceased his song. “Um, y-yeah?” he asked, blush coating his cheeks even though no one could see him (or, hopefully, hear him).

“It’s been ten minutes. You sound good, but we’ve got to get a move on.”

Fuck. Awsten’s cheeks darkened. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry.”

“No need for ‘sir,’” Lucas told him. “Just wrap up in there.” 

Awsten turned the dial, and the water instantly stopped falling. He reached for his towel. Several minutes later, he found himself downstairs in sweats and Otto’s Mountain Dew t-shirt with a plate of plain scrambled eggs and some microwaved bacon on the table in front of him. 

“Bacon is good for me,” Travis declared. 

Zakk chuckled. “Is that right?”

Travis nodded, his mouth full. Awsten and Jawn shared an amused smile. 

When the boys were nearly finished eating, Lucas glanced at Zakk and mouthed something Awsten couldn’t decipher. Then to the table, Lucas said, “Gentlemen, we need to talk.” 

Ashton, Awsten, and Jawn all grew nervous. Travis merely glanced over, mildly interested. 

“Last night, one of you was given the privilege to shave on the condition that the razor was returned before bed. I know things got a little chaotic-”

Ashton turned a bit red.

“-but when he asked where to put it, I told him to leave it outside of Zakk’s room and that we’d get it later. I realize now that this was a colossal mistake on my part.” 

Awsten began to speak, ready to defend himself, but a look from Lucas silenced him. The counselor took his time studying each of the boys. Awsten shifted uncomfortably under his steel gaze. 

“So,” Lucas finally continued, “he doesn’t know this, but I watched him put the razor where I asked. _But._ ”

Ashton gulped in anticipation of where the sentence was headed.

“When you were all in bed and Zakk went to get it, it seemed to have magically… vanished.” 

“Ooh,” Travis whispered. 

“No, Travis, it’s not good,” Lucas countered. “It’s actually very, very serious. Whoever has it needs to return it immediately. Does anyone want to give it to me now? You will not be in trouble. You have my word.”

No one responded.  


Lucas waited. 

Awsten shifted uncomfortably in his chair. 

“Alright then,” Lucas hummed. “I will let you know that I have a theory about where it is - or at least whose possession it’s in, but all of you were alone at some point between when I saw it where it was supposed to be and the time we realized it was missing, so it could have been anyone.”

The boys were all looking around the table at each other.

“Regardless, Zakk and I talked it over, and we think it’s more important that we get it back than it is that we know who took it, so you won’t have to tell us who you are. We are going to clean breakfast up, and by the time school is over, the razor needs to have found its way back to Zakk’s room or mine. If it doesn’t show up, all of you are going to face consequences whether you were involved or not.” 

Anger flared up inside of Awsten, hot and scarlet. 

Lucas scanned the boys again. “Does everyone understand?”

Jawn, Ashton, and Awsten nodded.

“I didn’t do it,” Travis announced proudly. 

Lucas pursed his lips. “Right now, it doesn’t matter who did it. What matters is that everybody stays safe and doesn’t do any harm to anyone, including themselves.” There was a beat of silence. “Go clean up your plates. In three minutes, we’ll start the meeting.”

The boys obeyed, and soon everyone was seated around the couches. 

“Good morning,” Lucas started, seemingly in a slightly better mood than he’d been in the moments before. “After school today - when the razor has returned - we’re going to head over to FutureFaith and-”

“Are we going to help with the kindergarten?” Jawn eagerly interrupted.

“No, not today.”

“Aww.”

“But we _are_ going to help Jon pack lunches for the kids at the school.” 

“With Big T?!” Travis squealed.

“With Big T,” Lucas confirmed, finally showing his first smile of the day.

“Lunches?” Awsten wondered. 

“That’s right. It’s a private primary school, so there’s no government-provided food for them. They mostly feed the kids donations. Every week, Jon and Big T sort through all the food, but today we’ll help them. It will probably be easier to understand once you see it.” 

“It’s real fun!” Travis told him. “We do a ‘ssembly line, and we get to color on the sacks. And all the snack packs make different noises when you squash them!” 

Lucas continued, “When we're finished with that, we’ll come back and have quiet time til dinner. If everything is back where it’s supposed to be, Zakk and I have a little activity planned for you gentlemen after dinner. If not, we’ll just stay inside.”

Jawn swallowed. 

“Check-ins… Let’s start with Ashton,” Lucas said, flipping to a clean page on the clipboard. “How are you feeling?” 

“Heavy.” 

“Explain,” Lucas prompted. 

“I’m sad, but it’s more than that. It’s… weighted. I don’t know.” 

Lucas wrote for a few seconds. “Okay. I’m sorry.” 

Ash shrugged. “It’s okay. It’s what I expected, I guess. After yesterday.” 

They ran down the rest of the list, and then Lucas surprised Ashton - and everyone, really - by asking, “And did you take the razor last night?”

“No!” Ashton cried, looking horrified to have even been asked. 

“Okay,” Lucas replied smoothly, and he moved on to Travis. He ended with the same question. That pushed Awsten, whose anger had been festering since breakfast, over the edge. Ashton had been in pain the previous day, so asking him was valid. But Travis would never do something like that. Awsten was furious.  Travis didn’t seem bothered in the slightest, though. He proudly repeated that he hadn’t done it.

“Jawn, how do you feel?”

Jawn shrugged. “Calm.”

Lucas wrote. Jawn chose zero to quantify both his pain and depression. At the end of his turn, Lucas asked, “Did you take the razor?” 

Jawn, who had clearly been expecting the question, shook his head.

Lucas looked at him for a long moment.  Jawn just stared back, his eyes boring into Lucas’.

“Awsten, how are you feeling this morning?” Lucas asked, still looking at Jawn for several seconds before his gaze traveled to the boy he was talking to.

“Pissed,” Awsten spat.

Lucas adjusted his already-tight grip on the pen, and for the first time, Awsten saw a spark of frustration reflected back at him. “You and I are going to go in the office and talk after this. You know better than to use language like that. You've been reminded several times. Choose another word, please.”

“Well, that’s how I feel,” Awsten insisted, sticking his chin up in defiance.

“Choose another word.”

Awsten scowled. “Mad.”

“Thank you. Why are you mad?” 

“At you.” 

Lucas had no reaction. “Why are you mad at me?” 

“Because we didn’t do anything! It’s not fair for you to punish all of us for something one person did!”

“But he said it could have been any of us,” Jawn pointed out.

“Then he needs to wait until he figures out who it was!”

“Yeah, innocent until proven guilty,” Ashton quietly agreed.

“I will decide what’s fair,” Lucas responded evenly. 

Awsten whipped his head to look at the group. “Whoever did it, you need to fucking own up.”

“ _Awsten_ ,” Zakk and Lucas said sharply at the same time. 

“Go sit in the office and wait for me,” Lucas ordered. “Zakk, go stand with him.”

“It’s not fair,” Awsten repeated dangerously, but he went. Zakk followed behind.  “Travis would never do something like that!” Awsten exploded as soon as Zakk shut the door. “I can’t believe Lucas even asked him about it!”

“How do you know that for sure?” Zakk asked, eyeing him suspiciously. 

“Because I know him. And you probably know him better than I do, so you should know that, too.” He fell back into the couch, slamming his crossed arms down onto his chest. The feelings inside were too powerful, though, and he reached up to yank at his hair. 

“Awsten, hey, man. Take a deep breath,” Zakk instructed soothingly, taking a seat in the desk chair. 

“No.” 

“You need to calm down.”

“I don’t want to,” Awsten protested indignantly. 

Zakk nodded. “I know. I can tell.”

Awsten blew air loudly out of his nostrils. “This isn’t fair! Zakk, I didn’t do anything!”

Zakk was quiet for a few seconds. Then, he asked, “Do you know who did?”

“No. But I don’t care, because _I didn’t_!”

“We’re all a team here.”

“There’s no team,” Awsten snorted. “There’s just me. I can’t trust anybody.” 

“Do you really believe that?” Zakk asked, his tone soft. “Remember yesterday? All of you were worried about Ash, so what did you guys do?”

“It doesn’t matter. That was before.”

“You worked together to make him a card. You went in there and talked to him. Lucas told me what happened, what you two asked to do.”

“That was _before_ ,” Awsten insisted.

“Before what?”

“Before someone-” he started, but he was stopped by Lucas calling from outside. 

“Awsten, I know you’re angry, but you need to keep your voice down. We’re still meeting out here.”

“Before someone was stupid and selfish,” he hissed to Zakk as if there had been no interruption, “and now we’re all gonna get hit!”

“Whoa, Awsten, no. No one’s getting hit,” Zakk responded, his eyes suddenly wide. “That’s not-”

“That’s what ‘consequence’ means,” Awsten countered. “Lucas was really mad, and he said we were going to be in trouble. I know that’s what it means.”

Zakk’s reply was grave. “Awsten, we have never hit one of our boys here, and we’re not about to start today.” 

Awsten shook his head. “It’ll happen. You don’t have to lie. I’ve been in foster care before; I know how it works.” Then something dawned on him. “If Travis is gonna get hit, I’ll take it for him, though. I know he didn’t do it.”

“Awsten,” Zakk repeated, his eyes like saucers, “I promise you, no one is going to touch you. Any of you. I promise. I _promise_.”

Awsten tried to laugh. 

“That is _not_ how we do things here. Lucas meant extra chores or isolation time downstairs, not-” The door swung open, and Zakk stood up. To Lucas, he said, “He’s having a Shane moment.”

_A what?_ Awsten wondered.

Lucas nodded. “Noted. The gentlemen are in the game room.”

“Alright.” 

Lucas stepped out of Zakk’s way.

“Judgement of Solomon,” Zakk muttered as he passed Lucas under the arch of the door.

Awsten had no idea what the hell that meant, and Lucas didn't seem to, either. "What?" he asked, a puzzled expression on his face. "Which one?"

Zakk didn't respond, just waited to Lucas to figure it out. 

Awsten could pinpoint the exact second the answer dawned on him. Lucas' entire face changed, and he stopped in his tracks. “Wow.” He shook his head. “Wow… Yeah.” His left hand came up to rub over his jaw. “Wow,” he said again. “Thank you.”

Zakk nodded once and disappeared. Then Lucas closed the door and filled the seat Zakk had vacated only a moment prior.

Awsten was itching to ask who Solomon was, but he knew better than to speak.

“We have multiple things to discuss, so let’s start at the beginning.” Lucas folded his hands in his lap. “The swearing. Awsten. It needs to stop.”

Awsten didn’t react.

“You’ve had multiple warnings, and that hasn’t seemed to have been enough. I understand that it’s a habit. But you are in control of your mouth. Do you agree?”

Awsten nodded grudgingly.

“By tomorrow night, you will write me a list of several substitutes.”

“Are you serious?” Awsten groaned.

“Completely,” Lucas smoothly replied. “And I don’t mean words that sound the same; I mean entirely different phrases you can use to express your thoughts.”

Awsten sighed heavily. He tipped forward on the couch and dropped his chin into his hand. 

“The next thing I want to address is what happened during check-ins this morning.” Lucas studied him. “You seem very hostile right now.” 

_No shit,_ Awsten wanted to reply, but the last thing he needed was to be in more trouble for swearing. “Yeah,” he bit instead.

“What’s causing that?”

“ _You._ ”

“No. Just like your words, you’re in charge of your emotions. I’m not capable of making you feel anything. So why are you so angry?”

“Because it’s not fair.”

“What isn’t?”

“You’re punishing all of us. But look, I already told Zakk I’ll take Travis’ for him.”

“Take Travis’ what?”

Awsten swallowed and averted his eyes. 

“His beating?” Lucas assumed, his eyebrows raised. 

Awsten nodded at the carpet.

Lucas lifted his fingertips to the bridge of his nose, and his voice suddenly sounded much softer. “We won’t do that to you here.” 

Before Awsten realized he was even speaking, the words were hanging in the air. “I want to go home.” 

“I know,” Lucas murmured. 

But he _didn’t_ know. How could he know? How could he even imagine? 

Awsten swallowed. 

How could he possibly be aware of how comforting it was when Otto crawled into bed beside him with his promises of “You’re my brother,” or how special it felt when Mom set a plate of hot dinner in front of him and let her gentle fingers card through his hair? How could Lucas understand the impact of Otto’s dad’s strong hugs when Awsten least expected them or how soothing it was to inhale the woodsy smell of his big pickup truck? How would he know what the light in Mr. W’s eyes looked like when he handed Awsten’s paper back and told him, “I am extremely proud of you”? And how could he ever comprehend the effect that those six words had on Awsten’s entire being?

He was _safe_ at home - so long as people like Michael and his parents stayed away from him. At home, he was only punished for the things he’d done wrong, the bad choices he’d made. Here, apparently anything was game. He balled his hands up into fists.  “I want to go h-” he began again, but he closed his mouth before his emotions could get the better of him. 

“Awsten, I need you to hear me,” Lucas pressed. “Zakk and I will never hurt you.” 

His head snapped up, eyes blazing. “Then why would you get all of us in trouble for something one person did?”

“Because it’s an incentive for whoever _did_ do it to come forward. I’m hoping it won’t come to that point.” 

_That’s bullshit,_ Awsten wanted to say, but again, he bit his tongue. 

“I know that me just saying it to you doesn’t mean anything,” Lucas sighed. “Maybe I’m actually having the opposite effect. But I hope you know that I mean it when I say that you are absolutely not in danger here. We only want the best for you.”

Awsten scoffed and wrapped his arms around his abdomen. 

“I know how it sounds,” Lucas repeated, “and I know it’s far too early for you to trust me, but it really is the truth.”

The front door of the house opened, and Brendon called out a joyful greeting to the boys. Awsten started to get up, but Lucas stopped him.

“Wait. I’ll let you go when we’re done talking.” 

“I have a test,” Awsten informed him, still halfway between standing and sitting.

“You also have four hours,” Lucas replied. “Sit, please. Zakk will tell Brendon where you are.” 

Hesitantly, Awsten sank back onto the couch. 

“Why are you so angry right now?” Lucas repeated. “Other than at me. I can help you, but only if you tell me what’s going on.”

Awsten shook his head.

“Why not?”

“Somebody else might get in trouble. And _no,_ before you ask, it’s not about the razor.” He glared at Lucas. “Which I didn’t take." 

Lucas nodded. “Alright. I just find it a little weird that a couple minutes ago, you were yelling at Zakk about how you were all on your own here, but now you’re trying to protect the other gentlemen.”

Awsten smirked emotionlessly. "Yeah, I used to do that with my parents, too. They treated me like sh-” He stopped. “The way they did,” he amended, “but I’d still cover for them.” He shook his head in disgust. “I don't know why I do that."

“Our thoughts and our actions conflict sometimes. That’s okay.”

“Can I go to school now?” Awsten asked impatiently.

“A sentence I’m sure you thought you’d never say,” Lucas mused, shaking his head. 

“Yeah. Can I go?”

“You’re sure you don’t want to talk about your anger?”

He nodded.

“Can you stay calm?”

“Yeah…?”

“And can you keep your language in check?”

He sighed in annoyance. “Yeah.” 

“Then yes.” 

Awsten stood and headed for the door. Lucas followed him out of the office and toward the school room.

“What are you doing?” Awsten demanded. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

“You just said you could be calm,” Lucas reminded him.

Awsten dropped his shoulders.

“I need to talk to everyone for a moment.”

As soon as Awsten entered the school room, he was greeted by Brendon’s pleased grin. “Awsten! Good morning!” Brendon beamed. “And Lucas, too! What a nice surprise. How have you been?”

“Hey, Brendon,” Lucas replied kindly. “I’m good, how are you?”

“I’m wonderful,” Brendon smiled. 

“I’m here on business,” Lucas noted, but he still seemed amiable. “I wanted to make you all aware of a few things.” He was sure to catch Ryan’s eye as well. “The gentlemen have had a somewhat turbulent morning… They’re fine, but if you could ease them into the tougher stuff, that would be great. I know at least one of them has a test, and I think if we could hold off on that kind of thing for a little while, it would help.”

Ryan nodded while Brendon replied, “Sure!”

“Also, if they ask to go upstairs for a moment, please let them. One at a time, and for just a minute or two - no more.” He glanced at the boys. “Do you understand?”

They nodded.

“If they don’t come back down quickly,” he warned, returning his focus to Brendon and Ryan, “please let me know. I’ll be in the office.”

“Sounds good!” Brendon chirped.

Lucas left, and Awsten took his seat beside Brendon and Travis. 

“Are you alright, hon?” Brendon inquired.

“Yeah, um. Yeah, I’m fine.” All the boys were staring silently at Awsten, so he offered, “I didn’t get punished, guys. I’m fine.” 

School was distracting enough; Brendon lead Awsten in an in-depth review of vectors, scalars, and matrices with frequent stops to guide Travis through World War II. By the time both Brendon and Awsten agreed that Awsten was prepared for his test (Awsten had wanted to just get it over with for about an hour before Brendon declared him ready), it was 10:57. He was allowed fifty-five minutes to work on the test, and, since Lucas was busy in the office, Awsten was sent to the dining room table with a pencil, a calculator, and a some scratch paper. Zakk served as his silent supervision. 

The test was a bit of a blur with a side of frustration; Awsten could hear voices drifting out of the school room, and the dishwasher running in the next room was more than distracting. Plus, Zakk clicked his pen sometimes while he filled out some paperwork. On the test, there were three questions that Awsten hadn’t had the faintest idea how to even begin to solve, but soon the timer went off and Brendon came to collect Awsten’s paper. The tutor flipped through it, a slight frown on his face from concentration, but on the third page, his face lit up. “Yes!” he cried. “Oh, you got this whole section perfectly correct!” 

“Did I pass?” Awsten asked nervously. He almost didn’t want Brendon to answer.

“I… think so,” Brendon said, still paging through. “I’m not sure exactly how your teacher grades, but it looks like you did a decent job.”

Decent. That feedback didn’t feel nearly as encouraging as the response he’d gotten from Mr. W about his Of Mice and Men test, but at least it was better than it could have been. 

Brendon very suddenly pulled Awsten into a hug. “I’m proud of you,” he stated. “I know you tried your best even though math isn’t your favorite.” 

Awsten closed his eyes against Brendon’s plum shirt. He was hit with an overwhelming sadness; at the moment, it felt as though Brendon was the only person who was proud of him in the world. Everyone else just felt so far away. 

“Honey, are you okay?” Brendon asked again, the frown back on his lips when Awsten prematurely pulled away.

“Yeah, but can I go upstairs for a second?” he pleaded, already turning and heading for the staircase. 

Zakk’s ears perked up. The troubled expression stayed on Brendon’s face as he watched Awsten jog up the stairs even though he hadn’t received permission. 

Awsten rushed up to his room and grabbed Oliver off the dresser, pressing the soft frog into his face and taking slow breaths through his nose.  After what felt like mere seconds later, Lucas was sinking down onto the mattress beside him. 

“Hey, Awsten.”

Awsten quietly cleared his throat but didn’t lift his head. “Hi.” 

“You wanna tell me what’s going on now?” 

“I didn’t take the stupid razor,” he grumbled into the stuffed animal. “I put it back last night.”

“I’m not talking about that,” Lucas hummed. “I want to know what’s going on with _you._ ” 

Awsten shook his head again.

“You know,” Lucas said softly, “people think that when they’re angry, they’re like, ten feet tall and four hundred pounds and just crushing everything around them. But do you know what anger really is?”

Awsten peeked up from Oliver’s fuzz.

“It’s when you’re hurt or afraid. That’s all it is. It’s a secondary emotion. It’s a reaction to that pain or that fear.” 

“I’m not mad right now,” he stated, and emotion bubbled up dangerously in his chest. He held Oliver tighter. 

“What are you, then?”

He swallowed thickly and whispered, “Sad.”

“Why are you sad?” Lucas wondered softly.

“I don’t know.”

“I think you _do_ know.” 

Awsten closed his eyes. 

“Is it about your test?”

He shook his head. 

“Did someone say something to you?” 

“No. Stop guessing.” 

“Are you still feeling homesick?” 

Anger flashed through him again. “I said stop!”

“Don’t talk to me like that. You need to relax. We’ll get to the bottom of it.”

“Like you’re gonna get to the bottom of who took the razor?” Awsten sneered. 

“That’s not what we’re talking about right now. You’re in pain.”

Awsten snorted.

“I know your instinct is to cover it up by lashing out, but I’m asking you to try something different.”

“Oh, talk about my _feelings_ and everything will magically get better?” he asked sarcastically.

Lucas had a look on his face that Awsten knew well, that too-patient look he got from social workers and school counselors and now Rian. And apparently Lucas, too.

“Because it won’t,” Awsten grumbled. “It’ll never get better.” 

“How can you know that for sure?” Lucas asked.

Something inside of Awsten snapped. His voice came out too loudly when he responded, “Because Michael brought a gun to school, but he didn’t kill me, and I wish he did!”

There was quiet. Awsten pressed deeper into the top of Oliver’s head.

For an impossibly long time, Lucas didn’t say anything. 

Awsten felt good, powerful even, having stunned Lucas into silence. He wasn’t sure what results the admission would bring, but for the moment, he was glad he’d gotten the weight off his chest, even in the form of an outburst. He was vaguely aware of Zakk speaking quickly downstairs, maybe assuring someone of something, but he couldn’t hear well enough to make out the words being exchanged. Not that he cared, though. Nothing really mattered. 

“How long have you felt like this?” Lucas finally asked.

Awsten shrugged.

“Are you thinking about hurting yourself?”

“No,” Awsten scoffed, “I’ve never done anything like that. I just… everything would be easier if I was dead, you know? That’s all.” 

“Maybe,” Lucas agreed. “What about Otto? How do you think he would feel?” 

“Upset. But not as upset as I feel.” As soon as he said the words, Awsten wished he could stuff them back into his mouth.

“You’re really feeling a lot, then,” Lucas observed. 

Awsten shrugged. “I don’t want to talk about it.” 

Lucas nodded thoughtfully. Then, “Do you remember what I told you when you first came here about talking to me?” 

“You said I didn’t have to.”

“Yes, but I also said that I like when the gentlemen confide in me and that I can do my job better when they do. Do you remember that?”

Awsten nodded. 

“Do you also remember what I told you on Saturday when you asked if you could go home?” 

Awsten let out a quiet sigh. “Yeah. I can only go when you know I’ve worked through my issues or whatever.” 

“When you start to.” 

“Well, I said I don’t want to talk about it,” Awsten glowered.

“I heard you,” Lucas assured him. “I just wanted to let you know that what you did right here definitely qualifies. And I also want to say thank you for letting me in.” He held up two fingers and positioned them about half an inch apart. “Giving me this much,” he said, showing Awsten his hand, “is still giving me something. I know that wasn’t easy for you, but you did it, and I appreciate that a lot. Thank you.” He glanced toward the landing and then back at Awsten. “Take a few moments to relax. School should be wrapping up any second, so we’ll go into the kitchen and start lunch. Maybe that will help you feel a little bit better.” He stood up to leave, but he paused. “And Awsten, if you ever want to talk again - about anything - you know where to find me.” 

Awsten sighed quietly to himself and dropped Oliver into his lap. He counted Lucas’ footsteps as they retreated down the stairs.

 

* * *

 

** Peace and Purpose Home for Young Men  
March 18, 12:56 PM **

“Aws, how did your test go, buddy?” Zakk asked as lunch wound down.

“Um, it was okay, I think,” he shrugged. He used his fork to push a dressing-soaked spinach leaf around his plate. 

“Only okay?” Lucas pressed curiously. 

“Yeah. I tried.” 

“Okay,” Lucas nodded. 

“And Ash, how was your quiz?” Zakk wondered.

Ashton looked down at the table, trying to conceal his pride. “Good.”

“Good,” Lucas smiled approvingly. “What was it on?”

“Water. It was for biology.” 

“I miss biology,” Jawn said with a wistful sigh. 

“Me, too,” Awsten nodded.

“Me, three,” Travis added, and Awsten glanced at him.

“Aren’t you taking it this year?”

“Yeah, but I ain’t worked on it since last week.” 

“Oh, okay,” Awsten laughed.

“Are all of you guys finished?” Lucas asked, eyeing the empty plates sitting on the table. When his question was met with a flurry of nods, he instructed, “Alright. Go clean up, and we’ll head to the church.”

“Yay!” Travis cried, and he grabbed his dishes and dashed to the sink. 

There was a glaring lack of music during the ride to FutureFaith - a punishment, according to Lucas, for the razor not having appeared. Even though the journey was short, Awsten minded it more than he expected to. 

The boys spilled out of the van and headed inside with Travis leading the charge. He was, of course, on the hunt for Big T. He didn’t have to look for long, though; they were able to clearly hear Jon and Big T before they could see them. There was [bright, acoustic music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dSn9HW5P-sA) coming from the sanctuary, but the voices were louder. 

“No, no, and then - and then-!” Jon yelled, but he cut himself off with a burst of laughter. “No!” he howled. “Trav! Not like that!”

Awsten smiled at the delighted sound, but as they walked in through the sanctuary doors and laid eyes on the scene going on, the mirth made sense. Big T was on the small stage, dancing freely. Wildly. _Badly._ His dreadlocks flew this way and that as he swung his head and pumped his fists in the air. “My lighthouse!” he sang off-key. “My lighthouse!”

Travis broke away from the group and scampered up the aisle. He bounced a little with a broad smile on his face as he waited to be noticed. Shortly, Big T crowed, “Lil T!” and held a hand out to pull him up onto the raised platform. Travis started wiggling along. “See?!” Big T called to Jon. “My little man gets it!”

Jon just shook his head and jogged over to the gaggle of young men. “Hey, hey!” he greeted, enveloping all five of them in a sloppy group hug. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “We nabbed the new Rend Collective album that dropped yesterday, and, as you can see, my brother Big T is out of control.”

“It looks fun,” Ashton said hesitantly.

“Go join him,” Zakk encouraged, giving Ashton a little push. 

Ashton gave Awsten a glance that pleaded, _Come with me?_ but Awsten shook his head and waved him toward Travis and Big T. Ashton followed Travis’ earlier path down the aisle at a jog. 

“Once the dance party is over,” Jon grinned, adjusting that same maroon baseball cap on his head, “we’ve got bags to pack and sandwiches to make and snacks to sort.” He blinked. “Not in that order.” 

“Can we start decorating?” Jawn asked. He sounded a little shy.

“Yeah, man, go for it,” Jon replied happily, jostling his shoulder a little. “Everything’s out on the table. Just holler if you need anything. I’m gonna see if I can get the big man to take a break.” 

Luckily, right then, the song changed. 

Jawn led Awsten to a round table that hadn’t been there on Sunday. Awsten glanced to the front of the room and noted that actually, half of the chairs that had been set out for the Sunday service were relocated, stacked up at the sides of the room and replaced with two long, folding tables and covered in cardboard boxes nearly overflowing with a mishmash of tiny bags of crackers.

“This music sucks,” Awsten muttered. “It sounds like Mumford & Sons. But maybe not as bad.”

Jawn laughed. “Yeah, you’re right, actually.” 

Awsten peered over at the white bag that Jawn was seemingly decorating with a bunch of thin, navy blue lines. “What is that?”

“You’ll see.” 

“A pattern?”

“No.” Jawn moved his arm so the picture was out of Awsten’s view. 

“Picasso,” Zakk greeted, and Jawn nodded. “Big bear,” he said next, dropping into a chair, and Awsten gave him a small smile. 

Jawn made a dramatic snoring noise, so Zakk laughed and Awsten whacked at him.

“Ay, hands to yourself,” Zakk reminded him amiably. He grabbed a white paper bag and a red marker from the center of the table. 

“What are you gonna draw?” Awsten asked.

“A shark,” Zakk replied, “and it’s going to be terrible, so get ready.”

Awsten shrugged. “It’ll be better than whatever I wind up doing. I suck at art.” 

“Nah. Anybody can draw a sunshine,” Zakk pointed out. 

“True,” Awsten agreed. He reached for the yellow. 

Soon the rest of the group made their way over to the table, and Jon gave the instructions. 

“So, you guys picked a really, really good week to come help out. The deal is, we got hit with a truckload of donations. A literal truckload. We’ve got enough snacks and bread to feed those sweet rugrats upstairs for two months. But there’s a problem with that - does bread last for two months?”

The boys shook their heads.

“Nope. But we couldn’t let it go to waste, now could we? So me and Big T, we got to thinking about the other kids in the community just like ours that need lunch. And we decided to use some of the budget to buy turkey and peanut butter, and we’re gonna keep making sandwiches until we run out of bread.”

“That’s awesome,” Lucas praised.

“Yeah, we’re hoping to reach some people we don’t normally reach,” Jon nodded. “We’ve got snack packs on one table, so we’ll make sandwiches on the other. You guys know the drill - pair up, figure out jobs, and we’ll fly through this in no time, right?” 

There was a murmur of agreement. 

“Awsten, since it’s your first rodeo, you wanna work with me?” Jon suggested.

“Um, sure.” 

He smiled. “Alright, cool, cool.” Then, to everyone, he instructed, “Bow your heads, and let’s pray. Father God, we thank you for bringing so many hands and hearts here today to help create something that might make a big difference to a little kid or a parent out there, God. This is just a few hours for us, God, but it’s a relief and a blessing to hundreds of your people. Help us to keep our eyes trained on you, Father. In your name we pray. And all God’s people say?”

“Amen.”

The half-decorated lunch bags were abandoned on the round table as all the boys scrambled to get to the turkey stations. Lucas and Zakk wound up on one side with peanut butter, and Ashton and Jawn paired up beside both Ts in the middle. Jon and Awsten were left with peanut butter on the opposite end. Awsten didn’t mind, and Jon didn’t seem to, either. 

There was a bit of chaos when the box of plastic gloves came out; Travis let out a sound of anxious protest when he saw them, and Lucas asked calmly if the church had any colored gloves. 

“Oh, yeah, we totally forgot about that, little man,” Big T apologized. “Let me see if I can grab some out of the kitchen.” He disappeared, and Travis stood at Lucas’s side, staring intently at the door as he waited for his favorite person to come back in.

“So,” Jon said, capturing Awsten’s attention, “you wanna spread, or you wanna do the rest?”

“What’s the rest?” Awsten asked.

“Setting out bread and then bagging the sandwiches.”

“Um, I can do the peanut butter.” 

Jon clapped his gloved hands and rubbed them together. “Alright.” While he started untwisting the tie on the first loaf of bread, Awsten set about opening a peanut butter jar.

“How’s your day going?”

“Fine,” Awsten lied. 

“That’s good,” Jon smiled. “This is your second week here, right?” 

“Uh-huh.”

“Cool, cool. Are you liking it?”

“At Peace and Purpose?”

“Uh-huh.”

Awsten slipped the knife into the peanut butter, swirling it around a bit before he scooped some out and onto the bread. “Yeah, it’s good.” 

“That’s good," Jon echoed. "You ever had a roommate before?”

“Sort of,” Awsten replied thoughtfully, spreading the substance. “I spend a lot of time at my best friend’s house, and he has bunk beds. I lived with him for a couple weeks before I came here, so.”

“You got some practice in, then,” Jon grinned.

Awsten nodded. There was quiet as Awsten closed the first sandwich, passed it to Jon, and began working on the second. 

“Is your roommate… Jawn, then?” 

“Yeah.” 

“He’s a good kid.” 

Awsten grimaced. “Yeah.”

“What was that face?” Jon chuckled. “You guys having some problems?”

Awsten didn’t offer anything more than a shrug.

The two worked in silence for a few minutes, but that familiar feeling began building in Awsten’s chest, the one that made him feel like if he didn’t blurt out what was on his mind, he was going to explode. After several seconds spent trying to repress it, Awsten said a little desperately, “I have to tell you something.”

Jon cocked an eyebrow. “I’m listening.”

Awsten closed another sandwich and handed it to him. “I don’t believe in God.” 

Jon nodded, seemingly completely unsurprised. “That’s okay for now. You’re in the right place.”

“Is it not okay for later?” Awsten asked, a hint of rudeness creeping into his voice. 

“I mean… maybe you’re okay with that. But for me, I’d be…” He paused with the sandwich halfway into its plastic bag. “I want you to believe. But I can’t _make_ you. No one can. You have to come to that conclusion by yourself.”

“Am I going to Hell if I don’t?”

“I… well, according to my beliefs… yeah, man, I guess you would be.” 

Awsten chuckled at the candor. 

“But hey,” Jon said, jiggling the baggie and letting the sandwich fall the rest of the way in, “that’s not permanent. All it takes to get into Heaven is to know Jesus and believe in him.” 

“You don’t have to, like, pray fifty times a day and go to confession?” 

Jon laughed. “You’re thinking of Catholicism. Nah, man, all you gotta do is believe.” 

Awsten narrowed his eyes skeptically. “That seems too easy.” 

“Protestantism is the only religion like that in the world. It’s… it’s part of why I believe in it so much. It’s different.”

“And you really believe,” Awsten pressed. “Like, you really, really believe. Like, if the world was ending right now, you think you’d go straight to Heaven.”

“I know I would,” Jon responded, a distant smile on his face. 

“Well, how do you know God is real?” 

“It’s different for everyone.”

“No, how do _you_ know?”

Jon opened his mouth and then closed it. The far-away smile started to spread. “I feel him, man.”

Awsten tilted his head, silently asking for an expansion of the answer.

“Every time I talk to him, I… I don't know. I feel him. I know he’s listening, even if he’s not talking back. Started when I was a teenager, dude. I’d just talk to him. I didn’t even believe, but I… I needed to be heard, and - don’t get me wrong, I love my family to the moon and back, but I needed more. Something with substance. Something I could trust. I thought it was stupid,” he confessed, but the memory sounded fond. “I mean, I was walking around, talking to myself in my head. But things started changing.” 

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, like I just _felt_ better. And things in my life started coming together, started making sense.” He shrugged. “It’s like I said on Sunday, though. God’s not there to give you a million dollars and a hot wife. But if you can work with him and give even tiny part of your trust to him, he’s gonna reward you, man. With so much more than you ever imagined.” 

“I can’t imagine anything,” Awsten muttered.

“Well then, your immeasurably more is going to be real freaking easy for him.”

Awsten looked up, and Jon winked at him.

“What if it’s, like…” Awsten muttered. “How do you know he’s listening to you?” 

“Sometimes I’d go to church, and the pastor would start talking, and he’d be giving a sermon on exactly what was going on in my life. I mean, _exactly,_ yo, to the point that it was kinda scary _._ It was like God was talking directly to me.” He zipped another baggie shut. “I used to wonder if I was the only person in the congregation actually hearing that specific message. Maybe someone two rows over was hearing a sermon on something totally different."

"Wow."

"And sometimes I pray and I don’t get any answers. But other times when I pray, I get a lot of answers. Either in the form of blessings and comfort or more like ‘wait’ or ‘this is why x-y-z isn’t the right path for you.’”

“Answers,” Awsten repeated skeptically.

“Yeah. So, a while back, me and Travis - that’s Big T’s real name - we were trying to keep the lights on in this place. That was our biggest concern, just paying the bills. And now, only a year later, we’re able to extend our resources and do some service that we never would have dreamed of.” He motioned at the massive pile of bread loaves. “Before, we would have driven this down to a bigger church and let them take care of it.” 

“But how do you know that’s God? How do you know it’s not just… like, I don’t know, budgeting?”

Jon laughed. “Well, it wasn’t budgeting at all. We kept growing the church and using money out of our own pockets, and the people started bringing in donations that we didn't ask them for. This bread? I don’t even know who it came from. It just showed up outside the door Monday morning with a note.”

“What did the note say?” Awsten asked curiously.

“The numbers from some verses. Matthew fourteen, thirteen to twenty-one. It’s the one about feeding the five thousand.”

Awsten gave him a blank stare.

“You know the parable where the disciples give Jesus the little bit of food?”

Awsten shook his head. _What's a parable?_ “I’ve never been to church in my life.” 

“Oh, okay. You wanna hear the story? It’s short.” 

“Sure.” It’s not like they had anything else to talk about.

“Okay, well it starts out with this king, King Herod. He’s the same dude that crucified Jesus - that’s when he put him on the cross and killed him.”

“I know what crucify means,” Awsten told him pointedly.

“Oh. Well, the same dude - he went and had this guy named John the Baptist beheaded.”

Awsten wrinkled his nose.

“John the Baptist was a prophet and a saint and just this, like, all-around amazing religious teacher. He’s the one that actually baptized Jesus.”

“Okay…”  _Can we skip the boring parts, please?_ Awsten hoped.

“So he gets beheaded, and Jesus hears about it and he’s pretty upset, so he takes a little boat and goes off to be alone. But he’s Jesus, right, and at this point, he’s, like, super famous. So a crowd follows him. Five. Thousand. Men. Not including women and children. The bible says Jesus ‘had compassion on them,’ and he starts healing them and talking with them and all that, and it starts to turn to night, and everyone’s still there, but they're getting hungry. Since Jesus took the boat off to this remote place, there’s no food there. The disciples tell Jesus to tell the people to go off into the villages and grab some dinner. But Jesus is like, naw, man, they can stay. It actually says that he said, ‘They don’t need to go away. You give them something to eat.’” 

“Sassy,” Awsten observed. 

“Exactly!” Jon laughed. “He’s _so_ sassy sometimes. So the disciples are like, we canvassed the whole crowd, and all they have are five loaves of bread and two fish. And Jesus tells the disciples to bring the food to him, and he prays over it and gives it to the people. He feeds all of them and has leftovers.”

“No way,” Awsten muttered.

“Yeah, way.” Jon laughed at himself. “ _Yaweh,_ ” he intoned, but it fell flat since Awsten didn’t understand the joke. “I wanna thank you, though, dude,” Jon acknowledged, turning a little serious. “You’ve been super respectful about being roped into to coming here, especially as a non-believer, and I’m grateful for that. It’s really mature of you, so thanks.”

“Oh, um… no problem.” _It’s not so bad_ , he wanted to say, but the words got stuck in his throat.

“No, dude, you’re here three times a week, and you’ve been nothing but nice. I really, really appreciate you.” 

Awsten ducked his head and focused intently on getting some more peanut butter onto his knife. “Oh. Well, you’re welcome, I guess.” 

Overhead, the song changed again, this time to a slower song. Awsten still thought it sounded sort of like Mumford & Sons. “What is this music?” he asked, a little desperate to change the subject even though he was the one that had brought it up.

“Ah, it came out yesterday,” Jon smiled. “I was at the Christian bookstore before it even opened. I’ve been waiting on this album for months.” 

“What are they called again?”

“Rend Collective.”

“I’ve never heard of them,” Awsten admitted, shrugging one shoulder.

“Yeah, most people haven’t. You ever listen to KSBJ?” At Awsten’s blank look, Jon sang their bouncy little radio jingle. 

Awsten smiled at the display. “That’s what Lucas plays in the car.”

“Yep,” Jon nodded. “They’ll probably play whatever songs wind up being singles, but, I mean, it won’t hit mainstream radio.” 

Awsten thought for a moment and used the back of his forearm to scratch at an itch on his cheek. 

“Do you like it?”

“It’s okay. I think I actually liked that rap stuff from Wednesday better.” 

“Ah, yeah. Those are my boys!” Jon grinned. He kept talking about the music, and Awsten nodded, pretending to be more interested than he actually was while he smeared peanut butter around slice after slice after slice after slice of bread.

Eventually the loaves ran out, and it was time to move on to whatever the next thing was going to be. Jon had the group congregate at the next table. “Okay, here’s the deal here - we got three big boxes of snacks. Which we are so, so thankful for. But there’s desserts and crackers all jumbled up in there, so what we gotta do first is sort them, okay? So I’m gonna dump ‘em out for you, and I need the salty stuff over here-” He pointed to his end of the table. “-and the sweet stuff over there.” He pointed to the other end. “If you can’t tell what goes where, or you don’t know, just ask me or Big T.” He poured the first box out, and Travis laughed joyfully as the colorful snack waterfall spilled onto the table - and onto the floor. 

Chatter started back up immediately as seven pairs of hands reached for the food. 

“What were you and Jon talking about?” Jawn asked curiously.

“Uh, just - just, like, the music and stuff.” 

“Did you tell him you hate it?” Jawn joked.

“No!” Awsten hissed. 

“Ay, if there’s applesauce or that GoGo squeeZ yogurt stuff,” Jon called to everyone, “that counts as a sweet even though it’s not cookies. Send it down there.” He pointed to the treat end of the table.

The task went quickly, although it was stalled momentarily by Travis’ confusion over what exactly they were supposed to be doing. It took a few minutes for anyone to notice that he was grouping all the snacks with blue packages into a little mountain in front of himself. When Lucas finally realized what was happening, he told Travis that he'd done a good job and asked if he was ready to go decorate some more bags. Travis seemed pretty pleased with himself as he happily wandered to the art table.

Soon, everyone joined him around the markers. Jawn pushed up the sleeves of his red sweatshirt and went back to work on his line drawing. Awsten sat beside him and kept drawing sunshines. To halt the monotony of the same picture over and over and over again, he added a pair of green sunglasses and a smiling, red mouth on one, which made Travis laugh, so he began drawing that on each bag he made afterwards. 

“We need…” Jon told them, pointing at the air while he calculated, “a hundred and eighty-nine bags.” 

“Whoa,” Ashton muttered. 

“So they don’t have to be perfect, okay? We just need a lot of them.” 

Lucas was drawing upside-down on the underside of all of his bags, and eventually, Awsten pointed it out to him. Lucas slipped his arm into the bag he was working on and used his hand to open and close the bottom like a mouth. “It’s a puppet.”

Awsten’s eyebrows shot up. 

Lucas smiled with a hint of shyness on his face and went back to work. 

By the time they were finished, Awsten and Ashton had made the most bags, clocking in around forty each. Jawn had only managed to make seven, but they were all incredible. The first one, the one that Awsten had only been able to understand as a bunch of lines, turned into an amazing picture of a Transformer. He had also done some flawless drawings of SpongeBob and Mickey Mouse, but he kept flipping them over as soon as he was done, as if he didn’t want anyone to see them. Awsten thought that was strange. If they were his, he would have gone around shoving them in everyone’s faces, proudly exclaiming, “Look what I made!”

Once the decorating was finished and the markers were cleaned up to Lucas’ satisfaction, the group moved to, as Travis referred to it, “a ‘ssembly line.” The bags were stacked up at one end of the cleared-off sandwich-making table. Lucas would open a bag and hand it to Ashton, who put a juice box inside. Then it was passed to Jawn for a salty snack, nudged to Travis for a sweet one, and pushed down to Awsten, who added the sandwich. He would slide it to Zakk, who would check that everything was packaged correctly and then give it to Big T to close it up and put it in the box to donate. 

Toward the end, Zakk caught Awsten staring longingly into the pile of processed desserts beside him. “Which one do you want?” Zakk asked with a little laugh.

“Ugh, the Oreos,” Awsten sighed. “I haven’t had one in years.”

“Hmm. Maybe I’ll pick some up next time I go to the grocery store.” 

Awsten’s eyes brightened. “Really?”

Zakk lifted a finger to his lips and gave him a conspiratorial smile. 

“Before you guys go,” Jon said once all the bags were packed into boxes, “circle up and let’s pray over the food real quick. Real, real quick.” The group assembled, and he smiled out at them. “I cannot tell you how grateful I am for you guys coming out here to help today. This would have taken me and Big T a day and a half, but with all of you here, we did it in two hours. Thank you all so much.” He pressed his fingers together. “So much.” Then he held his hands out, and the boys all followed suit. Together, standing in a circle and clasping hands, they bowed their heads. 

“Father God,” Jon began, “thank you for giving us the opportunity to be the hands and feet of Jesus today. Please spread your blessings over this food and use these meals to make a difference in someone’s day. We love you. In your name we pray. And all God’s people say?”

Awsten was ready that time with his amen.

 

* * *

 

 **Peace and Purpose Home for Young Men - Entry**  
**March 18, 4:40 PM**

After another silent car ride back to the house, the boys were all sent to different places downstairs to ‘reflect.’ Travis was planted on the maroon couch, and as Lucas lead Awsten past him into the dining room, Travis shot Awsten a confused, helpless look. “Was I bad?” he asked Lucas. 

“I don’t know,” Lucas replied shortly. “You tell me.”

“I didn’t do nothing,” he said sadly.

“This isn’t fair,” Awsten muttered urgently to Lucas. “We didn’t take it.” 

“That’s what all four of you keep telling me,” Lucas airily replied, not looking at him, “but the razor is still gone.” 

“Awsten, I didn’t do nothing,” Travis pleaded as they left him alone in the entry and moved into the dining area, the room to which Awsten would be confined for the foreseeable future.

“I know,” Awsten assured. “Neither did I. That’s why I’ve been so mad all day.” 

Travis’ voice shook. “Why are we in trouble?”

“I don’t know,” Awsten replied, speaking a little loudly to be sure Travis could hear him clearly.

“This is so stupid,” Jawn complained from the chair that Zakk had dragged into the kitchen. Ashton was stuck by himself in the school room.

“No more talking,” Lucas ordered.

Awsten sighed loudly.

“I will be up in my room,” Lucas told them from the bottom of the staircase. “If anyone wants to come discuss the location of the razor with me, you are encouraged to do so. I am happy to leave you all here until it’s time to start dinner, and if it’s still not back when dinner is over, you can come back here and sit some more.” 

Travis let out a whimpering sob. 

“Travis, it’s okay,” came Ashton’s voice, but Lucas said again, “There will be no more talking.”

After thirty of the slowest, longest, quietest, most boring minutes of Awsten’s life, Lucas came back down the stairs. “Who’s ready to talk?” 

“Me,” Travis said immediately. 

Awsten held his breath, hoping that he hadn’t actually taken the razor and that he was just interpreting Lucas’ question literally.

“Alright, Travis, let’s go.” 

They went together into the office and came back out barely four minutes later. Travis was crying, begging not to be put back on the sofa, and Lucas apologized to him softly but then called for Ashton. 

“I need a drink,” Jawn muttered.

Awsten turned his head slowly in the direction of Jawn’s voice. The boys couldn’t see each other, and the words clearly hadn’t been meant for anyone’s ears, but they’d reached Awsten’s, and he was nothing short of shocked. 

Ashton stayed in the office for much longer than Travis had, nearly twenty minutes, but he emerged and headed for the dining room, his face a mix of weariness and frustration. “Your turn,” he sighed. 

“What did he ask you?” 

Ashton shook his head and shrugged, heading back to the school room. 

Awsten stood, shoving his chair back from the table, and barged into the office. “What?” he demanded, not taking a seat on the couch. 

Lucas raised his eyebrows. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You called me in here.”

“Yes. I want to see if you know anything or if you’ve noticed anything about the other gentlemen’s behavior in the last few days.” 

“Well, Jawn just said he needed a drink,” Awsten stated bluntly. 

“Okay,” Lucas nodded, reaching for his notebook and picking up the pen lying on the top page. 

“He also lied to me about why he’s here. He told me his parents died in a car crash, but then I found out about Ashton's family. I don’t know what the f-” He clenched his jaw. “What he’s actually doing here-”

“Okay,” Lucas repeated, starting to make some notes.

“-and at this point,” Awsten continued seamlessly, “I don’t care. I’m done. I’m so done.” 

“Done with what?” 

Awsten clenched his fists. “I don’t know. Nothing. Forget it.” 

“You still seem angry.”

“You’re damn right.” His teeth sunk into his bottom lip as his words caught up to him. “Sorry. I’m sorry.” 

Lucas then motioned toward the couch. “Sit down.” 

“Did you know Travis is still crying out there?” Awsten demanded, ignoring the instruction in favor of pointing back at the entry. “That’s on you.”

“Awsten, the hostility needs to stop. I am in charge, and I make the decisions. Not all of them are easy, but all of them are what I believe to be best.”

Awsten turned away.

“I’m curious, though, because you seem to be very anti-group punishment; what would you do if you were in my shoes?” Lucas asked.

“Crack down on Ashton and Jawn. It was one of them.”

“What makes you say that?” 

“Because Ashton was all upset yesterday, and Jawn’s a liar.” 

“A liar?” Lucas echoed, his eyebrows arching.

"Yeah. He lies to me about everything." 

“Hmm. And how do I know it wasn’t you?”

“I told you earlier, I don’t do stupid sh- _stuff_ like that.”

“Like what?”

“Cut myself.”

Lucas rubbed a hand tiredly over one of his temples. “Okay.” 

“So can I go, please?”

“If you don’t have anything else you want to tell me.”

“I didn’t do it,” Awsten informed for the hundredth time, and then he exited. As he heard Lucas blow out an exasperated breath, he caught sight of him out of the corner of his eye, twirling around in the desk chair.

Jawn’s time in the office went about as well as Awsten’s had, and by the time Lucas had seen all four boys, he was so fed up that he told them dinner prep would be silent, too. Zakk whipped up some grilled cheese sandwiches on the stove, and they made chicken soup from cans, which normally would have been fine but that night just seemed depressing. Aside from Lucas saying a quick grace and the moment Jawn yelped because he spilled soup on his favorite red sweatshirt (which he refused to take off in fear that the washer would ruin it further), everyone was forced to eat in silence. Awsten was so anxious about the impending punishment that he didn't take more than a few bites.

After the dreadful dinner and with no warning, Lucas went up to search the boys' bedrooms. Despite tearing everything apart and apathetically putting it back together not once but twice, he still came up empty handed. The silent isolation contained until he sent the boys to get ready for bed forty-five minutes early because, as he said, “There’s no point in you gentlemen staying awake any longer.” 

By chance, a few minutes after they all trudged upstairs, Ashton and Awsten headed to the sinks to brush their teeth at the same time. With a frustrated look on his face, Ashton whispered to Awsten, “Did you take it?”

Awsten blinked. “No, I put it back. I wouldn't have done that if I wanted it. You didn’t?” 

Ashton shook his head. “I guess it was Jawn, then.” 

Just then, Jawn headed into the bathroom to take a shower, so the other boys closed their mouths and averted their eyes. 

The night meeting was full of low scores across the board. Everyone was upset, frustrated, and cranky - even Lucas. With a curt nod, Lucas bid the boys goodnight and went into the office, closing the door firmly behind himself. Zakk quietly sighed and went up to make sure bedtime ran smoothly while Lucas calmed down. Awsten surprised himself by yawning as he climbed into bed. 

“Hey,” Jawn hissed. 

“What?” Awsten whispered back.

“Did you take the razor?” 

“No,” Awsten responded, annoyed. “Did you?”

“No. I wonder who did it.” 

“Well if it wasn’t you, and it wasn’t me, and it wasn’t Travis, and it wasn’t Ashton, then who was it?” 

Jawn huffed. 

“If it was you, I’m gonna be so fucking pissed,” Awsten warned. 

“If it was _you, I’m_ gonna be so fucking pissed,” Jawn shot back. 

“Right,” Awsten scoffed. _You’re a liar,_ he wanted to add, but he bit his tongue and laid down, pulling the covers over his shoulder. 

What the fuck? It couldn’t have been Travis… Right?

 

* * *

**Peace and Purpose Home for Young Men - Jawn and Awsten's Room**  
**March 18, Sometime in the Middle of the Night**

Awsten jolted awake, clapping a hand over his mouth just in time to muffle the panicked noise that forced its way out of him. He took a few moments to catch his breath and let his eyes adjust to the darkness (and to remind himself, _Michael’s dead. He can’t hurt anyone. He’s dead. He can’t hurt anyone)._ Once Awsten’s breathing slowed, he realized that he could hear hushed voices coming from the landing. 

“…but yeah, I think this time it’s really done.”

Awsten glanced over to see if Jawn was awake or hearing the whispers, too, but he was nowhere to be found. His covers had been carelessly tossed back, and a glance into the bathroom showed that one of the lights was on. 

“You want me to look at it again?” Zakk asked softly from outside his own bedroom door.

“Please,” came Lucas’ reply. 

“Okay.” 

There was the sound of a piece of paper changing hands, silence for a few seconds, and then a garbled exhale from Lucas. “I don’t know, man. They make me not even want to go through with this, you know? Today was the worst day here since… I don’t know. Maybe since we started.” 

“Justin and the car,” Zakk intoned, and Lucas exhaled through his nose. The noise almost resembled a laugh.

“Yeah, but that was one kid,” he protested softly, “and one isolated incident. This was all day and all of them.”

“No, it was _one_ of them, not all of them” Zakk corrected. “It just seems like all of them because we had to treat it that way. And besides - remember yesterday?”

The floor creaked as Lucas shifted his weight.

“Oh, don't tell me that you already forgot what you told me. About how you felt like for the first time, they were getting it, acting like a team.” 

“That was yesterday, not today." Defeatedly, he began, "I don’t know, maybe I shouldn’t-”

“Don’t even say that,” Zakk said, his volume increasing sharply. “You would do anything for them. This place is a lifeline for every one of these boys, and that’s all because of you. It’s all they have.” 

“Anyone with an ounce of sense would adopt Ashton; he’s a great kid. All he wants is to love and be loved. And Awsten has Otto’s family. You know that mom loves him to pieces. Travis just requires a little bit of pa-”

“I’m not done with yesterday,” Zakk interrupted. “Do you remember what you told me?” he asked again. 

Lucas sounded exhausted as he admitted, “Yes.” 

“Today was a bad day. Yeah. I know. I was here, too. It sucked. But these kids that pissed you off today are the exact same kids that made you so proud yesterday.” 

There was a small, muffled sound. “And you think we made the right call? Doing what we did?”

“Yes,” Zakk said passionately. “Definitely. I do.”

“Awsten fought me pretty hard.” 

“He’s seventeen years old, Lucas. Of course he did. You know how they are when they feel like they’re not being heard. But yeah, we did the right thing. I don’t know what the hell else we would have done.” 

The next question came as a whisper. “Do you think he did it?”

“Who? Jawn?”

“No - Awsten.”

In the darkness, Awsten held his breath. 

“No, I don’t.” 

“You think…?”

“Same old, same old?” Zakk asked knowingly. “Yep.”

“Me, too. I hope we’re wrong. I thought he was getting better… But it wasn’t in either of their rooms.” He sighed again. “I thought your point about Solomon was interesting.”

“It’s very telling,” Zakk replied, sounding more sure of himself than Awsten had ever heard him. 

“Yeah... Um, I should let you read,” Lucas said tiredly. “I’ll go put pajamas on and then come back.” 

Awsten quickly laid back down.

“Kay. I’ll be here.” 

“Okay.” 

Awsten heard Zakk retreat into his bedroom as Lucas started away. The head of the house didn’t pause in front of either of the boys’ doors on his way to his room, which seemed a little strange, because Awsten had grown used to Lucas checking on them every time he went by, but he also understood - today had sucked. Awsten would want a break from everyone, too. 

Lucas remained gone for a few minutes, and by the time he came back, Awsten was sure that Jawn would emerge from the bathroom any second. 

Zakk came back out of his room to wait for Lucas. When Lucas's door opened across the landing, Zakk stage-whispered, “I think this is great.”

“Yeah?” Lucas murmured back. “Thanks. Did you find any mistakes?”

“No. Honestly, man, I wouldn’t change anything. I think it’s powerful.”

As Lucas rounded the corner and passed Awsten and Jawn’s open doorway, Awsten closed his eyes, but again, Lucas seemed to have no interest in him. Awsten didn’t mind that at all. 

“I just don’t know what to wear,” Lucas confessed. 

Zakk chuckled. 

“Shut up. I know. But they’re gonna think I look like a…”

“Model?” Zakk suggested.

Awsten could hear the noise of a playful shove. 

“Pirate,” Lucas grumbled. "Or a criminal."

Zakk used a teasing voice as he lamented, “They won’t be able to hear anything you say past the vision of your angelic face. Your golden locks! Your smoldering eyes!”

“Z, stop it,” Lucas said, sounding tense. 

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry.” 

“It’s not funny.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m just…”

“Me, too,” Lucas muttered.

Footsteps picked up, and Awsten realized after a moment that the pair had gone into Zakk’s room. He wondered what time it was. One of them sat down on the bed, and the other took a seat in the chair.  Lucas was so quiet when he began speaking that Awsten couldn’t make out the beginning of the sentence, but he caught the end. “…thinking, what if they don’t listen?”

“They will.” 

“They probably have their minds made up already. Ugh.” 

“No. If they did, they wouldn’t be doing this.”

“I think they’re, like, legally required to hold it.” 

“Oh. But still, you never know until you try, right? It’s-”

Wearily, Lucas interrupted, “Don’t counsel me.”

“Sorry.”

There was a long pause. The paper crinkled again. 

“You’re right, though,” Lucas mumbled, getting to his feet. 

“You going to bed?” Zakk asked, and he followed suit. 

“Yeah. I… need a break.” A beat passed. “Hey, pray we find out who took the razor, okay? Somehow. I don’t want tomorrow to be another day like today. If it doesn’t work out tomorrow, I’ll have to take Awsten’s visiting privileges away Thursday, and I really don’t want to do that to Otto.”

“I know.”

“I… I can’t do that. Because…” Lucas sounded so upset before he trailed off that Awsten was relieved when he stopped speaking. 

“I know,” Zakk comforted. “You don’t have to explain it.” 

“Thanks, man.” 

“Yeah. Get some sleep, okay?”

“Yeah, you, too.” 

The pair exchanged a brief hug, and then Lucas began the short trip to his room. Just as he passed Awsten and Jawn’s room, an ear-splitting clattering sound filled the air. As Awsten flinched in surprise, Zakk muttered, “The hell was that?” 

There came a muffled, “Fuck!” from the sink area of the bathroom, and Lucas picked up his pace, flinging open the bathroom door. “Jawn?” he demanded. “What are you doing in here?” 

“Nothing!” was the frantic response. 

“What was that noise?” 

“Nothing, um-”

“Nothing?” And then suddenly, “Give me that,” Lucas commanded with an edge to his voice that had never been there before.

Awsten sat up in bed and silently pushed the covers off of his legs. 

“No, I’m almost done. I only need one second. I’m almost-”

“ _Now_ , Jawn. Give it to me. Right now.” 

“No! I waited all day, through everything, but I can’t get this thing fucking open,” Jawn said desperately. “I can’t g-”

Awsten peeked around the corner just in time to see Lucas yank the disposable razor out of Jawn’s hand. 

“All day,” Lucas said dangerously, holding up the plastic. “All day, you let your friends suffer so you could, what, cut yourself again? What are you thinking?” 

Awsten’s eyes went wide. _Again?_

“No, please give it back,” Jawn begged, “I just need a minute-”

“You are _never_ getting this back.” 

“Fuck you,” Jawn spat.

“ _Hey!_ ” Lucas said sharply. “Don’t _ever_ talk to me like that. My job is to keep you safe-”

“And I would feel better if I could have the razor back, so.”

“So you’re going to group tomorrow. And the day after that. And the day after that.”

“No!” Jawn wailed. 

“Yes. Self harm is not a joke, Jawn.”

“I’m not going back there! You can’t make me!”

“Oh, yes I can. I make the rules here. I’ll sit with you the whole hour I have to.”

“I’m not going.”

“You are. You know what happens if you don’t.”

Awsten swallowed, shrinking back.

“And I’m going to ask you again,” Lucas continued darkly. “What were you thinking?”

Jawn didn’t respond. 

“Someone heard you say something about wanting alcohol. Someone else told me they’re worried about you.” 

Jawn spat, “That’s a lie, and the second thing is stupid.” 

“It’s not stupid,” Lucas countered, and Awsten noticed that ever so slowly, that gentle, coaxing tone was beginning to make its way back into his voice. “Jawn, I need you to communicate with me like we talked about a few weeks ago. What’s this about? Why do you want to hurt yourself?” 

The answer was indignant. “I don’t know.” 

“Yes, you do. Take a moment and breathe. Let’s calm down. Both of us.” 

Jawn huffed, and Awsten could tell from Jawn’s shadow that he had sagged a little, his shoulder pressed up against the other side of the wall Awsten was concealed behind. 

Nearly twenty seconds went by of just quiet. Jawn anxiously started tapping his fingers on the counter, his nails making little clicking sounds every time they made contact. Lucas didn’t stop him. 

“I miss it,” Jawn finally muttered, and then he forced a fake laugh. 

“You miss cutting?”

“No. Yeah.” He sighed. “I don’t fucking know.” 

“It’s okay if you miss it. That happens sometimes.” 

“Sometimes?” Jawn snapped, but he didn’t say anything else. 

Lucas stayed with him, the silence back and somehow seeming louder. Awsten pressed his back against the wall and breathed out. Holy shit. It really had been Jawn all along.

“I just got mad, okay?” he burst out. 

Lucas asked gently, “Why?”

“Because Cal’s gone, and me and Awsten got in a fight, and you spent all day with Ashton and you didn’t care about me, and-”

“I do care about you,” Lucas interrupted, clearly wanting to set that straight right away. “He had an immediate need that day. That doesn’t mean that I don’t care about you.” 

“Whatever,” Jawn scoffed.

“No, it’s _not_ whatever.” Lucas’ shadow shook its head. “It’s not whatever.” 

Jawn didn’t respond.

“Talk to me about the alcohol.” 

“I just said it,” he sighed. “It didn’t mean anything.” 

“Where do words come from?”

“Yeah, yeah, the stupid poster, I know,” he grumbled, and Awsten could practically hear him roll his eyes. 

“Have you been thinking a lot about drinking?”

“More about using,” Jawn supplied, “but yeah. Kind of, I guess.” 

Awsten couldn’t believe how easily all the confessions were spilling out of Jawn’s mouth. 

“Okay. Thank you for telling me.” 

“I’m gonna regret it,” Jawn sighed. 

“Maybe for a little while. But this can only help you, Jawn. That’s why you’re here - for help.” 

“I know.” 

“Hey, I hate to bring this up,” Lucas began hesitantly, “but what happened today… I can’t help but wonder if it has something to do with your paren-”

“No!” Jawn half-yelled.

“Okay, shh… I’m just asking.”

“Don’t talk about them!” he persisted, overly defensive and almost shouting.

“Jawn, the gentlemen are sleeping-”

“I don’t care! I don’t want to talk about my family! Not now, and not ever!” Awsten could hear Jawn’s voice slipping out of control, and he watched as Jawn’s shadow angrily slammed a flat hand onto the counter. “I told you that _months_ ago, and you didn’t listen to me! You don’t ever _listen_ to me, Lucas, you don’t _listen_!”

“Jawn, that is absolutely not true. I always listen to you.”

“There’s no such thing as never and always,” Jawn shot back mockingly. 

Lucas' firm voice returned. “You need to calm down. I’m not having this discussion with you when you’re behaving like this.”

“See? Because you don’t care!”

“No, that's not it at all. Your feelings are important to me, but we can’t communicate effectively when your emotions are so heightened. You know that. Take a moment, use your skills…”

“You should go ahead and send me away now,” Jawn decided, his tone thick with venom. “Why wait?”

“That’s what you said last time. And look at you now. You’re doing so much better.”

Jawn scoffed. “No, I’m not.” 

“You are. You _are._ ”

Jawn quieted. “I’m never going to be normal.” 

“When is recovery ever about being normal?” Lucas asked, dropping his tone to match. “It’s not about being normal. It’s about you learning how to regulate. ‘Normal’ compares you to other people, and that’s not what we do here.” 

“What if I want it to be?”

“Then you’re barking up the wrong tree.” 

Jawn deflated. “I don’t know what to do.”

“You talk to people,” Lucas told him, “just like you're doing right now. You tell Patrick what’s going on, and you tell Zakk and me. When you do that, we can help you.” 

“The guys are gonna hate me forever,” Jawn said hopelessly. 

“No, they’re not. And don’t worry about them right now. We can brainstorm about that later.” 

“Awsten’s gonna be so mad,” Jawn whispered, starting to sniffle. 

_ Yep.  _

“Maybe. Maybe not. We’ll have to wait and see.”

“I hate being like this," he mumbled, more to himself than to Lucas. "I hate myself.” 

“We’ll work on it, and it’ll get better. I promise.” 

Jawn was silent. 

“Do you want to hurt yourself right now?”

“No.”

"Are you sure?"

"Uh-huh."

“Alright, good. I’ll call Kourtney in the morning and tell her you’re coming back to group. It’ll help.” 

“You’re really gonna make me go every day?”

“Yeah.”

Jawn groaned. “For how long?” 

“I don’t know. We’ll have to see about that, too.”

The room fell quiet again. Awsten wanted to slip back into his bed, but he knew that if he moved even an inch, Jawn and Lucas, who were standing just on the other side of the wall, would hear him. He remained frozen.

“Your hair’s getting long,” Lucas hummed after several seconds. “Should we cut it soon?” 

“No.” Jawn skimmed a hand over it and pressed the longest locks to the back of his neck. “I like it.” 

“It suits you,” Lucas agreed. 

Jawn nodded.  “I’m sorry I said eff you,” he admitted. Pleadingly, he looked up at Lucas. “I didn’t mean it. I… I don’t know what would happen to me if I didn’t have you.” 

“You would find someone else that would help you,” Lucas assured him. 

“I don’t want someone else.” 

Lucas was quiet for a moment. Then, wearily, he said, “I know, Jawn.” Awsten saw Lucas’ shadow motion Jawn toward the door. “It’s way, way past your bedtime.” 

Awsten leapt as silently as he could onto his bed. He scrambled to get underneath the covers and quickly closed his eyes.

“Am I still in trouble?” Jawn asked. 

“Yes.” 

“Big trouble?”

“Yes. Get back in bed.” Jawn obeyed, and Lucas shut off the bathroom light. “Goodnight, Jawn. We’ll talk more in the morning.” 

Even though his eyes were closed, Awsten could feel Lucas studying him in the dark. 

“Get some sleep, both of you,” Lucas murmured. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He walked back through the bathroom and into Travis and Ashton's room, where Awsten could hear him speaking quietly to them, too. A few moments later, after some whispers between Lucas and Zakk, the doors to both Lucas and Zakk's rooms closed, and the house was silent. 

"Awsten?" Jawn whispered timidly into the dark. "I'm really sorry." 

Awsten turned over in bed so that his back was to the other boy. 

"Okay," Jawn said sadly. "Goodnight." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> john the baptist's beheading + feeding the five thousand from the translation of the bible that i mentally refer to as 'the teenager version': https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Matthew+14&version=MSG
> 
> "Yeah, yeah, the stupid poster, I know." --> https://imgur.com/HjLNPSN
> 
> the judgement of solomon: https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=1+Kings+3%3A16-28&version=NIV
> 
>  **MADE IN AMERICA BLOG** \- http://miafic.tumblr.com/  
>  my main blog - http://otto-wood.tumblr.com/  
> twitter + instagram - @daysofaly  
> youtube - Aly from Tumblr


	16. Cycles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> brief, non-explicit mentions of self harm at the beginning~

** Peace and Purpose Home for Young Men - Jawn and Awsten's Room  
March 19, 7:20 AM **

“Hey, big bear. Time to get up.”

The sun was already shining when Awsten’s eyes fluttered open. He blinked and let out a sleepy sound before turning over on his side. He’d hardly slept; more than half of his night had been spent staring angrily at Jawn’s sleeping form, and he actually hadn’t realized that he'd managed to fall asleep at all until Zakk had woken him.

“Breakfast’s almost ready. Ash and I went ahead and made French toast - I figured you guys could use the extra rest after yesterday. I know me and Lucas sent you to bed pretty early, but it was a long day, and you and T were still asleep when we got up, so…”

Awsten pulled himself up to sit. “What time is it?”

“Seven twenty. Brendon and Ryan are coming late, too.” 

Awsten nodded. “Kay,” he said softly. He glanced at Jawn’s bed, but the covers were made up and the other boy was nowhere to be found.

“Lucas took him on a walk so they can chat for a while before he goes to group,” Zakk explained, following Awsten’s gaze. “He’s taking him to therapy later, too, and he knew Jawn wouldn’t want to talk about it anymore after all that.” He leaned against the doorway, carefully studying Awsten. “You good, man?”

Reflexively, Awsten sat up a little straighter and forced a smile. “Yeah. Yep. Um, can I shower?” 

“If you’re fast,” Zakk nodded. “And then come down, okay? The food will be on the table in just a minute.” 

“Okay.” 

Awsten spent his entire shower trying to distract himself from thoughts of the previous day by reminding himself that the next day was Thursday, which meant Otto was coming over. He'd get to see Mom and Otto and Mr. Wood, and he could forget about all this Jawn bullshit for a while. That was enough to slightly lift his mood. 

When Awsten made it to the dining room, his skin tinged pink from the too-hot water in the shower, it was silent. Ashton and Travis were already eating, and Zakk was lazily sipping from the mug of coffee in his hand. 

"I'm almost out of underwear," Awsten muttered to him on his way to his chair.

Zakk cracked a smile. "Okay. You can throw some laundry in after school."

Awsten nodded.

“Say grace, and then you can start eating.” 

Awsten bowed his head and pretended to pray for a few seconds. Then he sat back up and grabbed his fork. He wiggled the utensil over the corner of the bread, pressing down until he sawed a piece off. 

“You guys are awfully quiet today,” Zakk observed. 

Ashton and Awsten glanced at each other and then back down at their plates.

“What’s going on?” the counselor asked. 

“I’m sleepy,” Travis mumbled. 

“I let you sleep in too long, huh?” 

“Yep,” Travis replied lightly.

Zakk chuckled at his honesty. “Sorry, dude. What about you two?” he asked, moving on to Awsten and Ashton. “What’s going on?”

Ashton shrugged. Awsten didn’t react to the question at all. 

“Still upset about yesterday?” he checked.

While Ashton shifted in his chair, Awsten focused more intently on his toast.

“Okay,” Zakk said easily. “Let’s talk about it.”

“Am I gonna have to sit on that sofa again?” Travis asked worriedly, sounding like the events of the day before had just come back to him. 

“No, Trav, you’re not.” 

“Oh, good,” he responded with a small sigh of relief. “I didn’t like that none.”

“I know, buddy." When Travis didn't say anything else, Zakk inquired, "Ash? You wanna say anything about yesterday?”

He shook his head.

“Awsten?”

Awsten shoved a big bite of syrupy French toast into his mouth so he wouldn’t have to answer. 

“Okay, well,” Zakk began, “I would just like to say that all of you handled the situation very maturely.” 

“What’s ‘maturely’?” Travis wondered.

“You acted like adults,” Zakk explained. “Very grown up.” 

Awsten couldn’t help but think that Zakk’s statement didn’t apply to him, what with the yelling at Lucas and accusing Jawn and Ashton of being unstable, but at least Travis perked up a little, a smile finally gracing his features.

“I know that all of you were angry at some point, and if I’m being realistic, some of that anger has probably stuck around. Am I right?”

Awsten watched as Ashton looked up hesitantly and nodded. 

“And that’s fine,” Zakk assured. “You are definitely entitled to that anger.”

“Why would he do that?” Ashton wondered quietly.

Zakk forced a tight smile. “I don’t know. But I don’t think it’s going to happen again.” 

“No, like… why did he do that to _us_?” Ashton clarified, casting his eyes down in shame while he spoke.

“Hey,” Zakk said gently, “that’s a totally valid question.”

Ashton nodded down at his lap. 

“I don’t know why he did it, but Ash, you are allowed to be hurt, man.” 

“Yeah,” Ashton murmured.

Zakk’s eyes slid over one seat. “Travis, did you want to say anything?”

“Yes. I want to say I had a dream about a real big dog, and she was blue! And her name wa-”

“Hey, that’s awesome, dude, and we’ll talk about that later, okay? It’s just, right now I’m asking if you’ve got anything you want to say about what happened yesterday.” 

Travis thought for a moment. “Jawn got us in trouble,” he stated.

Zakk nodded.

“I didn’t do nothing wrong, but I had to sit on the sofa all day.”

Awsten looked up from his plate at the sound of the frustration in Travis’ voice.

“I wanted to go look out the window by the door to see what the weather was outside, but Lucas said I had to sit on the sofa and I couldn’t get up no matter what.” 

“That’s right. Do you understand why?” Zakk asked.

Travis shook his head.

Zakk explained the punishment to Travis the same way Lucas had explained it to Awsten the day prior, referencing the hope that reprimanding the people who hadn’t been involved would drive the guilty party to come forward. 

“But he didn’t,” Travis said confusedly, “and then he was yelling at Lucas in the night.”

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t like that none. It was scary. And too loud.”

Ashton nodded in agreement.

“How come he took it?” Travis continued. “He didn’t need to shave.”

“Well,” Zakk said slowly, and Awsten could practically hear the gears turning in his head as he tried to decide how to respond, “his intent when he took it was to hurt himself. I don’t want to lie to you about that, Trav, okay?”

“To hurt himself?”

“Yes. You know how we have to be careful with sharp things like scissors or knives, and Lucas or I are always with you when you handle them?”

Travis nodded.

“Razors are like that, too. They're even sharper than knives. They're made in a certain way so that they’re safe most of the time, but if you take them apart like Jawn was trying to do, you can hurt yourself with them really badly.”

“But why would he do that?”

“Sometimes…” He looked around the table, a fiery look in his eyes all of a sudden. “And I don’t want any of you to test this out, okay? Do _not_ try this.” He shook his head. “I probably shouldn’t even be telling you this, but like I said, I really don’t want to lie to you. You all had to deal with what happened yesterday, and it’s not fair to keep you in the dark. So, um. Travis, listen… Sometimes people feel out of control, or they think they’re feeling too many feelings, so they do something to make themselves feel pain. And it helps them calm down.” 

Travis wrinkled his nose. “What?”

“That’s all I’m going to say about self harm,” Zakk told him. “If any of you have more questions, you can talk about it with Lucas or at therapy on Friday, okay?” 

Travis nodded.

“We can still talk about yesterday, though.” 

“I have another question,” Ashton said. 

“Okay.”

“Where… like, where was it? Lucas went through our rooms, and he didn’t find it.”

“Uh, he had it in his sweatshirt pocket,” Zakk admitted. He pursed his lips as soon as he finished his sentence.

Awsten clenched his jaw. Fuck Jawn. _Fuck_ Jawn.

“Anything else?” Zakk asked. “Aws, you’ve been pretty quiet. You got anything to add?”

Awsten had a _lot_ to add, but he didn’t trust himself to speak. He shook his head and tightened his grip on his fork.

“Okay. Lucas is taking you and Trav to therapy Friday, so if you want to talk about it soon with someone other than me and Lucas, you can.”

Awsten gave a curt nod.

“Can I tell about my dream now?” Travis asked hopefully.

Zakk watched Awsten angrily saw at his french toast for another moment before finally giving Travis permission. “Yeah, dude. Go ahead.”

Awsten tuned out Travis’ happy-go-lucky tale about the giant blue dog from his subconscious and remained pretty checked out for the rest of the meal. He was, of course, forced to participate in the morning meeting, where he lied again about how much he’d slept but told the truth about everything else, including the fact that he was feeling angry. That sentiment was identical among all three of the boys. 

When the meeting was over, Zakk transferred them to Brendon and Ryan with a word of warning about their temperaments and assurance that he’d be either in the office or the kitchen if anyone needed anything.

“Did you get my test back?” Awsten asked quietly once Zakk had left. 

“No, not yet,” Brendon replied, a sympathetic expression on his face. 

“Oh… okay.” 

“Hopefully I’ll have it tomorrow.” 

Awsten nodded.

When school was over, all three of the boys headed to the kitchen. 

“I feel a little better,” Ashton decided as he got the bread down from a shelf in the pantry. 

“Good,” Zakk responded with a little smile. 

Despite all four of them choosing different ingredients for their sandwich, the “cooking” was simple and even fun. By the end of it, everyone’s slightly elevated mood had influenced Awsten enough that he was actually up for a little joking around with Travis about his hair looking like the jelly on Ashton’s sandwich. 

“It’s the most beautiful hair in the world.” 

Awsten laughed. “Thanks, dude. But the color’s coming out a lot,” he told Travis as they carried the plates to the table. “It used to be way more purple than it is now.”

“Even more purple?” he echoed with wide eyes. 

“Yeah, dude, _way_ more purple. It’s faded right now, but a while ago, it was like the label on the jelly. Seriously. It was _so_ purple.”

“ _So_ purple,” Travis nodded reverently. 

“Someday we’ll do yours, too.” He snuck a potato chip off one of the plates and popped it into his mouth. “Hey,” he said around the crunch, “would you rather have it pink?”

“Pink hair?!” he practically shrieked.

Awsten grinned. “Yeah, man. We can do pink if you want.” 

“Yes! And you’ll have pink hair, too?”

_Why the hell not?_ “Sure, if you want me to match.”

“Yes! Yes!” He clapped his hands together joyfully. “Pink hair! I have to tell Ashton!”

“I heard you,” Ashton assured as he came in carrying three glasses of water. 

“Pretty sure the entire neighborhood heard you,” Zakk chuckled, following with the last glass and some napkins. 

“Pink hair!” Travis cried again. 

“Alright, sit down, Pink Hair,” Zakk instructed. 

“Pink hair, pink hair, pink hair, pink hair,” Travis sang happily to himself. 

“Shh, okay. It’s lunch right now. We can make up a song after.”

“A pink hair song?”

“Definitely. But you remember you can’t have pink hair while you live here, right?”

“Yeah, I know,” Travis said easily. “But I’m gonna have it someday! Me ’n Awsten both!” 

Zakk smiled at him fondly. “Of course you are.” 

Travis beamed. 

“Okay, Awsten - your turn to say grace.”

“Okay.” Travis’s excitement had helped Awsten’s mood so much that he couldn’t help but put on a smirk and say - in a disastrous Australian accent, “Hands, lads.” 

“Hey!” Ashton cried, but he was laughing. “That’s my thing!”

Zakk grinned at the exchange.

“Dear God, thanks for lunch. And, um, thanks for Ash and Travis and Zakk, too. Amen.”

“Amen.” 

Awsten had gotten used to the sound of clinking forks and knives filling the air after the chorus of voices, but there was almost no sound at all that day since it was all finger food. They bit into the soft sandwiches and chewed.

“Oh - remember, Aws, you’ve got to turn in your list for me and Lucas today,” Zakk said.

“List?” Awsten repeated.

“Yeah. The list of G-rated words.”

“Oh, right. Okay. I’ll do that after this.”

Zakk nodded. “Thanks, man.” 

Awsten gave him a small smile.

The group ate quickly, but Zakk let them hang out and talk at the table for quite some time after they finished. The atmosphere was so good that Awsten could have stayed there for hours, just goofing off and being silly, finally having caught a glimpse of himself again. 

Eventually, though, Zakk glanced at his watch and reluctantly told the boys they had to start clearing the table.

“Aww,” Ashton and Awsten groaned simultaneously, and then they looked at each other and burst into peals of laughter. 

“Alright, Giggles One and Giggles Two. Come on. We've gotta go. Lucas is gonna be here any second, and he’s expecting you guys to be in quiet time already.” 

“No quiet time!” Awsten pleaded. “Can we go in the game room instead?”

“Not today. Grab your plates and let’s go. It’ll just take a second.” As if he’d just remembered, he pointed at Awsten. “You’ve got a list to make, mister.”

“Yeah, I know,” Awsten sighed. He cleared his place and headed to the kitchen, where he dumped his crust in the trash. He snagged one last fragment of a chip and slipped it into his mouth before brushing the rest of the crumbs off and handing his plate to Travis, who was in charge of rinsing the dishes. 

“Thanks!” Travis said brightly.

“No problem,” Awsten replied. Then his attention was grabbed by the sound of a vehicle slowing down and pulling into the driveway. Awsten drifted a few feet over to peer out the side window. 

Lucas put the van in park, and Awsten could see Jawn through the tinted glass as he unbuckled his seatbelt. He tumbled out of the passenger seat with a wide smile on his face, and all the good things Awsten had been feeling immediately evaporated.

Jawn shouldn’t get to smile. Jawn was a liar. He was a thief. He'd made all of the boys suffer for fourteen hours. _Fourteen hours_. 

Awsten’s turkey sandwich must have been swimming in his stomach, because he began to feel nauseous. Every emotion tangled up inside of him shut down. Well - every emotion except anger. At his sides, his fingers flexed and then clenched into fists. 

Ashton, who was only fifteen years old, had just gotten through a day dedicated solely to grieving the loss of his entire family and was forced to spend the subsequent day almost completely silent and alone. Travis didn’t even understand what had been going on or why he’d been punished, but he’d been reduced to tears. And it was all for nothing. For stupid Jawn to try to do something dangerous, but in the end, he didn’t even manage it. 

He flexed his fingers again and clenched them back into fists.

Awsten couldn’t believe Jawn possessed that kind of audacity. Leaving the razor in his sweatshirt, literally _in his hand_ while all the group punishment bullshit was going on and then lying straight to Lucas’ face about it over and over… Yeah, Awsten had told his fair share of lies at the house, but at least his weren’t hurting anyone else. 

Awsten’s eyes hardened as he watched Jawn wait for Lucas to round the van. He hated seeing Jawn look so happy when he’d caused so much misery. Awsten stretched his fingers back out, but his hands slowly morphed again into tight fists. His nails dug into his palms.

“Pink hair, pink hair,” Travis was singing again, but sounded so distant. It sounded so…

Outside the window, Jawn said something to Lucas and laughed, moving his hands enthusiastically as he spoke. Lucas nodded at him but seemed more focused on finding the key to the back door on the overflowing keyring.

God, Awsten wanted to eat Jawn alive.

Flex… clench…

“Aws, you good?” Zakk checked.

Flex... clench...

Awsten couldn’t hear it over the water from the sink, couldn’t hear it over the echo of Travis sadly wondering, _Was I bad?_ , but he could tell by looking that Lucas’ key slipped into the lock. The doorknob turned, and Lucas pulled the door open to let Jawn through. But before Jawn had even made it three steps into the room, Awsten’s eyes landed on the stupid, careless grin Jawn was wearing on his face. And he lunged.

“Awsten!” Zakk yelled, letting go of the porcelain plate he was holding in favor of reaching out to grab Awsten. 

He missed.

The plate banged loudly against the floor and shattered into a hundred tiny pieces.

Awsten’s fist smashed into Jawn’s left cheekbone. 

Hard.

The force of it not only sent a zap of pain from Awsten’s knuckles up to his elbow but knocked Jawn backwards off of his feet and into Lucas’ chest. 

“NO!” Lucas roared, grabbing onto Jawn’s shoulders, both anchoring and slightly shielding him.

Awsten drew his arm back again and went for a second hit, but Zakk snatched Awsten’s wrist out of the air just in time and dragged him back several steps. 

“Fuck you!” Awsten yelled across the kitchen to Jawn as Zakk’s arm encircled his chest in an attempt to turn him away. “ _Fuck_ you!”

“Awsten, what the fuck?! You’re fucking psychotic!” Jawn shouted back, struggling against Lucas’s tight grip. His hands had clenched into fists, too.

“STOP!” Lucas bellowed. “Zakk-!”

“I know, I’m trying!” Zakk assured, half-shouting to be heard over the boys, who were still hurling their anger back and forth at each other. He grappled with Awsten for a moment before whipping his head over his shoulder and commanding, “Ashton, take Travis and get the hell out of here. Go in my room, and shut the door.” Ashton was frozen to the spot until Zakk yelled, “Get out of here! Go!”

“I fucking hate you!” Jawn spat at Awsten.

“Good! I fucking hate you, too!”

“STOP IT, BOTH OF YOU,” Lucas ordered, his tone loud but even.

“Awsten, calm down,” Zakk hissed in Awsten’s ear, but Awsten refused. He had to make this right. Lucas and Zakk clearly weren’t going to take care of Jawn’s punishment, so it seemed that Awsten had to take it into his own hands. Literally. 

“He LIED!” Awsten shouted as his fury boiled over.

“Yeah, but he just punched me in the face!” Jawn protested, almost bewildered. 

Awsten bared his clenched teeth and strained harder against Zakk’s grip.

Despite Zakk’s tireless efforts, it was Lucas that managed first to get between Jawn and Awsten and break their eye contact. He stood between them with his arms outstretched to keep them both at bay. “This behavior is _unacceptable_!” he barked, chest heaving. “I will _not_ have this home turned into a place of fear or violence!”

Awsten and Jawn kept leaning from one side to the other, trying to glare at each other around Lucas.

“I’m not living with him anymore,” Jawn declared.

“Oh, yes you are,” Lucas countered, his eyes blazing. “Yes, you are. You don’t make the decisions around here. _I_ do. Jawn, go to the school room and wait for me. Awsten, office. Now. Zakk, can you get them both some ice, please?”

Awsten roughly shrugged his arms out of Zakk's hold.  “Fuck you,” he bit again as Jawn walked by.

Jawn replied by holding his middle finger in the air as high as he could until he was out of sight.

“Get in the office,” Lucas ordered Awsten. “And I don’t want to hear any comments until I’m done speaking. Do you understand?”

Awsten stalked to the back of the office and whirled around, crossing his arms over his chest, already ready for Lucas to come in and be done with whatever he had to say.

A few moments later, Lucas entered and handed Awsten a clear baggie filled with ice, which Awsten grudgingly smacked onto his throbbing right hand. The office door closed.

Lucas seemed to tower over Awsten when he said dangerously, “You are out of line. I understand that you’re frustrated, and I know that you’re angry because you feel like what happened yesterday was an injustice to you. But in no way does that justify using physical violence to get your point across. We _do not_ do that here. Do you understand?”

Awsten blew air out of his nostrils, but he nodded.

“Had you been planning that before we got home?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I was having a fucking good day, actually.”

“Hmm. So what happened?”

Awsten pulled his lips into a snarl, which prompted Lucas to raise his eyebrows. 

“Awsten, what happened?” he repeated.

“He was smiling,” Awsten answered, disgusted. “He looked so happy. He shouldn’t get to be happy after what he did.”

Lucas pursed his lips. “Why?”

“He hurt all of us!”

“So your response was to punch him in the face?”

“Well, it’s not like _you_ were going to.”

“No. Of course not. That would be wrong - both legally and morally.” Lucas studied him for a moment. “I find it surprising that you hit him when you very well know how it feels to be on the receiving end of that.”

“I only get hit when I deserve it. And it works.”

“No one deserves physical punishment.

Awsten stuck his chin out. “Yes, they do. Jawn especially.”

Lucas let out a heavy breath. “We'll talk more about this later, once both of you have had a chance to calm down. But I do think it’s important to give you your consequence now.”

It didn’t matter. Lucas wouldn’t hit him, wouldn’t kill him, so whatever he did to Awsten couldn’t hurt him. It would be like detention and Saturday school all over again.

“You need to make a phone call,” Lucas said shortly. 

Awsten blinked at him in confusion.

“To the Woods. You need to call them and tell them that they are no longer welcome to visit you tomorrow.”

Awsten’s stomach dropped. _No…_ His horrified shock must have been written across his face, because Lucas nodded in confirmation.

“You can’t do that!” Awsten fumed.

“I just did.”

“You said Thursday, that he could come on Thursday!” 

“And you said goodbye to that privilege as soon as you lost control of yourself and turned to aggression. This is a home for young men, not boxers.” 

Awsten gaped at him, lost for words. Otto was the one thing - the _one thing_ \- that Awsten had. Out of the entire world, Otto was the sole friend that Awsten could rely on. Otto was the only person that mattered, the only person that had consistently been by his side, the only person who he knew truly loved him. 

And Lucas thought he could just… take Otto away?

“No!” Awsten finally responded.

“Yes,” Lucas replied evenly. He pointed at the phone. “You need to let them know.” 

“I - I fucking hate you!” 

“I know,” Lucas replied simply, “but you need to let them know. By…” He glanced at the clock on the computer. “…the end of the hour. You can wait until you calm down, but the phone call needs to be made soon.”

“Please! He’s my best friend.”

“You made your choice."

Awsten’s mind was racing. He was so angry that he couldn’t think. He reached up to yank at his hair and then quickly let go in favor of digging his nails into his arms. 

“Stop,” Lucas said firmly, grabbing Awsten’s hands and pulling them up a few inches so that he was no longer harming himself.

“Let go of me!”

“Awsten, you need to relax. The situation with the razor is over. The fight with Jawn is over. Your punishment is final. All your anger is doing now is hurting you. Do you remember what I told you yesterday about anger?”

No, he didn’t. He couldn’t remember anything. All he could focus on was how he felt vaguely like his throat was closing up. With as much venom as he could muster, he spat, “Shut the fuck up.”

“Take some deep breaths.”

“No.” He wavered slightly, stumbling backwards half a step, but luckily, Lucas hadn’t let go of his arms yet and was able to correct his balance. 

“Awsten you need to sit down.” 

“ _No._ ”

“You’re going to make yourself sick. Sit down.”

“I said no!” He tried to swallow around the lump in his throat. “I need to get out of here. I don’t want to stay here anymore. I want to go home, I want-” Awsten started toward the door, but before he could get to it, his wobbly knees betrayed him, and he swayed. 

Lucas eased him down to the carpet. 

“Fuck!” 

“Relax,” Lucas soothed, crouching down beside him. “It’s okay, Awsten. Just try to relax.” 

“I can’t. I can’t fucking breathe, I-”

“It’ll pass.” He shifted so that he was sitting cross-legged on the ground a foot or so away.

Awsten, frustrated, used one hand to weakly push at Lucas’ chest. “Get away from me!” he managed.

“Awsten-”

“Don’t do this,” he begged, gasping the slightest bit as he spoke. “Please. Please, Lucas, don’t do this to me… I’ll do anything… He’s all I have…”

“Shh…”

“He’s all I have!” 

“I know.”

“No, you don’t! You don’t understand! He-”

“Awsten,” Lucas interrupted quietly, and for the first time since Lucas and Jawn had returned home, Lucas’ tone sounded familiar to Awsten’s ears. “I want to hear everything you have to say, but right now, I need you to stop talking and focus on breathing. All you’re doing is working yourself up. So let’s just stop for a minute, okay, and breathe.” 

Awsten closed his eyes and buried his nails as deep into the carpet as they could go. “I fucking h-hate this,” he whispered.

“Shh… Just breathe.” 

Finally, Awsten obeyed. After several long seconds, he reached up, using the heel of his hand to press into the painful spot on his chest. 

“There you go,” Lucas encouraged softly. “Relax… You’re okay.” 

“I really want to leave,” he stated, his voice still strained. “I mean it. Can’t you just kick me out and send me home?”

“Let’s get you through this first, and then we’ll talk.” Lucas waited nearly an entire minute before helping Awsten to his feet and over to the couch. 

“Fuck, I’m so tired,” Awsten muttered, more to himself than to Lucas.

“That’s normal,” Lucas assured. “Your body’s working pretty hard.”

Awsten collapsed down onto the small sofa, entirely drained, half-wishing he’d just listened to Lucas in the first place instead of having a huge, embarrassing, drawn-out meltdown on the floor. He wanted Otto…

Otto.

“Please let him come over,” Awsten whispered. “Or at least my mom. Please, Lucas, I’ll do anything, please just let me see them-”

“You made your choice,” Lucas repeated, “and this is the repercussion.” 

Defeatedly, Awsten nodded. The rage would come back, tight and demanding and scalding, and he knew that. But for that moment, he was just filled with sadness. It was thousands of grains of sand slipping through his fingers in mere seconds. It was the gray light and white mist at the lake just before dusk. It was his wet t-shirt sticking to his skin because someone was home so he didn’t want to be. It was the knowledge that he was and would always be alone, alone, alone. 

Before he could think twice, and despite just having sat down, Awsten pulled himself off the couch and onto his feet. He lifted the desk phone and dialed the familiar number on unfamiliar buttons. 

It rang three times, and then someone picked up. “Hello?”

“Um, hi…”

“Awsten, is that you?” Mr. Wood asked, a hint of urgency in his voice. 

“Awsten?!” he heard someone ask in the background.

“Yeah. It’s me.”

“Oh, son, it’s so good to hear your voice. How are you?” 

“Okay.” 

“You must be calling for Otto. He’s not here-”

Awsten looked down at the desk, twirling the spiral cord around two of his fingers. “Um, actually… I was looking for M…”

“Mom?” he filled in.

“Yes, sir,” Awsten muttered. 

“Okay, hon. She’s right here. Hold on.” 

“Thank you.” 

The phone transferred hands, and then Otto’s mom’s voice - _Awsten’s_ mom’s voice - filled his ear. 

“Awsten?” she asked hopefully.

“Mom,” he whispered. He squeezed his eyes tight, shame and dread pooling in his stomach. 

“Honey! We’ve been so excited to see you! Oh, we miss you so much, sweetie. Otto tells us every day how much longer it is until we can come visit you, a-”

“Yeah, um… I kind of have to tell you something…”

“Oh, okay! What is it?”

Awsten looked pleadingly at Lucas, who nodded as if to say, _Yes, you have to tell her._ He sighed and confessed, “Something happened.”

“Are you okay?” she asked immediately.

“Yeah, I’m fine, just…” His voice threatened to break, but he clamped down on the emotion. “I…”

“Baby, what’s wrong?” 

He closed his eyes and rushed out, “Lucas says you guys aren’t allowed to come see me tomorrow.” 

“What?! Why not?”

Before she could get angry with him, he said defensively, “It wasn’t my fault!” 

“What wasn't your fault? Awsten, what on earth happened?”

“He - he lied, and we all got in trouble, and Travis, he didn’t know what was happening, so today I just… I…”

“What happened?” she asked, her voice firm.  
  
Awsten didn’t reply.

“Awsten, what happened? Tell me right this minute.” 

He shot one more broken look at Lucas, but Lucas clearly wasn’t changing his mind. “Please don’t be mad at me,” Awsten whispered. 

“Awsten, now.” 

That was it. She was definitely going to hate him. Screw this. Screw everything. Awsten straightened his shoulders, but his voice came out dead when he stated, “I punched my roommate in the face.”

“What?! _Awsten!_ ”

“He deserved it,” Awsten spat.

“What on earth happened?!” she asked again.

“He stole something and wouldn’t ‘fess up, so we were all in trouble all day. All. Day. We found out last night it was him, and I had to make sure he didn’t do it again.”

“So you _punched him?”_

Awsten could hear Otto’s dad asking questions in the background, but he couldn’t make out the words being said. 

“Is he okay?” Mom inquired.

“He’s fucking fine, I’m sure,” Awsten scoffed.

“And are _you_ okay?”

He forced a fake smile, suddenly aware of the ice that was currently searing his aching hand. “I’m great.” 

Instead of being furious like Awsten had expected, Mom just sounded worried. “Baby, that behavior doesn’t sound anything like you.” 

He laughed emptily, unsure of what to do with her reaction. “Guess I’m more like my parents than we thought, huh?” 

She was quiet for several seconds before saying fervently, “No, Awsten, I didn’t mean-”

“Whatever. You can’t come. Tell Otto I’m sorry.” He slammed the phone down and stomped out of the room and up the stairs without a glance back at Lucas. Once he got to his bedroom, he flopped onto his bed, burying his face deep in his pillow before he let out a frustrated scream. 

The phone started ringing again a moment later, but it stopped almost instantly, so Lucas must have picked it up. Awsten could hear his soft voice speaking into the receiver as he hurried to explain the events of the past two days as thoroughly as he could without violating any confidentiality laws.

“Awsten?” came Zakk’s voice. 

Awsten heard his footsteps approaching and then stopping in the doorway.

“Okay,” he said carefully as he took in Awsten’s motionless but still obviously frustrated and upset form. “I’m here if you need me.” 

The footsteps retreated, and Awsten sat up a few inches to punch his pillow. It wasn’t nearly as satisfying as punching Jawn. God, his hand hurt… 

He angrily shoved the ice bag onto the floor and sank his top teeth into his bottom lip. This was all Jawn’s fault. Awsten was pretty sure he’d never hated anyone - not his teachers, not the cops or the social workers, not Michael, not even his Mom and Dad - as much as he hated Jawn in that moment. 

Awsten could run away. Or get himself kicked out. But obviously, running away was the better option. He wouldn’t even need to pack a bag; he could just sneak out the kitchen door and run. He didn’t know where he was, but civilization wasn’t far. If he thought hard enough, maybe he could figure out how to travel the few miles to the street where the church was. He usually watched out the window while he drove, so he was fairly confident he could be successful. There was a KFC he’d noticed on a corner - he could go there and ask to use the phone. And if they said no, he could go to FutureFaith and… well, no, because Jon would probably call Lucas. But where would Awsten even go? Otto’s family wouldn’t want him anymore, and Awsten’s dad was in prison, and his mom was dead.

His mom was dead.

Fuck, that was still so weird to think about. According to Jon’s belief, Awsten’s mom was rotting in hell. Which probably wasn’t so bad. She deserved it. Mostly.

But Otto - Otto didn’t deserve this. He’d probably been waiting for Thursday just as anxiously as Awsten had. And Mom even said that Otto had been counting down the days… 

“Goddammit,” Awsten hissed, pressing deeper into his pillow. If he could just hear Otto’s voice, just for a minute- 

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, it was replaced by another. If he could just see Otto’s face… And then that was all he could think about.  Awsten pushed himself up off his bed and crossed the small space to the place where the green bag Otto’s family had brought was resting against the wall. He spent a moment hurriedly digging to the bottom for the photo album.

He loosely picked it up and then headed back to his bed, plopping back down onto his stomach and opening the little book. He skimmed past the pictures he’d already looked at the week prior and stopped at an old photo of himself beside Otto, both of them five years old and wearing wide smiles that overwhelmed their tiny faces. They had tall socks and clunky sneakers on, and Otto’s curls were hidden underneath a little baseball cap. They were pressed shoulder to shoulder, and a closer look showed Awsten that their hands were tightly clasped together. 

Awsten remembered that day; they’d spent the Monday of a long weekend running around the Houston Museum of Natural Science, and they’d been mostly interested in seeing the giant dinosaur skeletons and playing in the sandbox with the ‘fossils’ and gems. Awsten was thankful in retrospect that Otto’s parents had thought to pause for a quick picture of the boys. 

On the next page, Otto and Awsten were posed by Otto’s front door wearing ill-fitting suits and douchey sunglasses. Awsten almost smiled at the cringey image from the night of freshman homecoming. He’d only gone because Otto had talked him into it, and Otto had only gone because his parents had talked _him_ into it. Neither of them had dates, and Otto’s dad drove them to and from the dance. They never felt the need to go again, although Otto had definitely mentioned possibly going to senior prom...

The photo beside it was recent. And vertical, like it had been snapped with a cell phone. Awsten hadn’t known this picture even existed, although that made sense; it must have been taken right after Awsten came to stay with the Woods again, because he was very plainly sporting a black eye. He and Otto were squished into the bottom bunk, both asleep propped up against a pillow. Awsten had his head tilted ever-so-slightly toward Otto’s shoulder and his arms crossed over his chest. It looked almost as though the two boys had fallen asleep watching TV, but there was no TV in Otto’s room. To Awsten, it was clear that they’d fallen asleep while they’d been talking. 

Awsten pressed two gentle fingers over the two-dimensional bruise, as if he could soothe his slightly younger self’s pain. That Awsten had thought that things were bad back then. He didn’t know that he’d been living in heaven. Awsten would give anything to go back to his biggest problem being passing the twelfth grade, before he and Otto were allowed to see each other once a week at best, before Michael had…

Tears prickled in Awsten’s eyes as a fresh wave of homesickness and nausea washed over him. He’d been so distracted by Jawn that he’d hardly thought about Michael’s oozing body all morning. And now he’d gone and fucked everything up at the group home, so he wouldn’t see Otto again for at least eight days. It was supposed to be one, and even that felt like years. But _eight_ days… That would be an eternity. 

Awsten stared at the picture, taking the image in until it was burned into the back of his mind. Finally, his body couldn’t stand it anymore, and the tears flooding his eyes spilled over. "No, stop it," he hissed at himself. "Stop. Stop. It doesn't matter." But the tears kept coming without his consent. "Fucking stop it," Awsten insisted, smacking his good hand sharply onto the back of his other wrist. He didn't understand why he did that, but the stinging pain helped somehow.

A shuddering breath escaped him, and then a quiet sob. "Fucking stop it, you bitch! Man up. Come on." He scrubbed his hands over his face to roughly dry the tears, but they just continued falling. "Stop crying!" 

But he couldn't. 

He leaned sideways into his pillow, not giving up but at least letting himself be comfortable while he fought the biological reaction. “Make it stop,” he ordered, half to himself and half to God, if God was both real and listening. 

“Awsten?” came a voice. Travis. 

Awsten angrily drew his shirt sleeve across his eyes.

“Are you okay?” 

“Go away, Travis,” Awsten muttered. 

Travis ignored this and came closer. He walked up to Awsten, who had the photo album pressed into his chest, but paused on the way and picked up the discarded ice bag. He tilted it left to right and watched as the water sloshed from one side of the bag to the other. Once he squeezed the coldness a few times, he set it on the edge of the mattress. “Can I see that turtle now?” He hurried to tack on, “Please?”

“No.”  
  
“But he’s right there,” Travis said, and Awsten glanced up just enough to follow the line from Travis’ finger across to the dresser where Oliver was sitting.

“I said no.” 

“I wanna touch him.” 

“Well, I don’t want you to.”

Travis frowned. “Is it cause you’re sad?” 

“I’m not sad,” Awsten lied.

“Then how come you’re crying?” 

“I’m not crying,” he lied again.

Travis looked confused by this, the frog on the dresser already forgotten. “Yes, you are. I can see you.” 

Awsten humphed. 

“Don’t be sad, Awsten,” Travis pleaded. 

“I’m trying,” Awsten muttered as he smeared new tears off of his cheeks. 

Travis’ lip honest-to-God poked out, and the younger boy unknowingly created the most heartbreaking and pathetic puppy-dog face Awsten had ever seen.

“Okay, _fine,_ um, you can see my frog,” he sighed, just to get Travis to stop making that face. “But be careful with him. He’s really fragile.” It was yet another lie, but he didn’t know what Travis intended to do with Oliver. And Awsten may have been seventeen, but the stupid stuffed animal really did mean something to him.

While Travis was across the room, Awsten took a moment to slip under the covers. He pulled them up to his chin and watched as Travis reverently petted Oliver’s green head. “Hey, Trav?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?”

Travis nodded, his back still to Awsten because his focus was still on the frog.

“How come you’re not scared of me?”

“Cause you’re not scary at all,” Travis replied without turning around. 

“I just… I was loud,” he said, trying to put what had just happened into terms that Travis could understand.

“Yeah, but you were per-tecting me,” Travis responded, completely matter-of-fact.

Awsten’s eyebrows drew together in confusion. “What?”

“Uh-huh. That’s what Zakk says. You hit Jawn cause you were per-tecting me and Ashton so we don’t have to sit on the sofa again.” 

Awsten shut his eyes. In the heat of the moment, Awsten’s loss of control had just been about trying to wipe that goddamn smirk off Jawn’s face. But overall, yeah, that was what Awsten had been going for. He was glad that Zakk had been able to see that. And now Travis, understood, too.

“Jawn bring-ed him to you when you were sad,” Travis said, finally turning around and motioning to Oliver. “Should I bring him to you now?” 

“Okay,” Awsten murmured.

Travis picked the frog up as if he were made of glass and slowly carried him over, passing him to Awsten as carefully as he could. “Here ya go.”

“Thanks.” Awsten tucked Oliver under the sheets with him, swallowed, and then mumbled, “I still feel like a monster.”

Travis looked confused. “A monster?”

Awsten just nodded. 

Travis smiled. “You ain’t no monster, Awsten,” he said warmly, almost laughing at the absurdity of Awsten's statement. “You’re my best friend!”

Awsten opened his mouth to speak but closed it again. He pressed his hand over his lips and let out a quiet sob. Travis didn't seem to notice. 

“Thanks for letting me see your turtle. He’s real nice.” Just then, Travis noticed the photo album that was peeking out from under the blue blanket. “What’s that?”

“Pictures,” Awsten replied in a slightly watery voice, using the back of his hand to wipe his nose. 

“Can I see?”

“Yeah, but only I can touch them, okay?”

Travis nodded with his eyes wide and came closer as Awsten sat halfway up and lifted the still-open photo album. He turned the page.

“Who’s those little boys?” Travis asked. 

“That’s me,” Awsten quietly explained, pointing at the little boy in white pajamas covered in uneven stripes of black tape, “and that’s my best friend Otto,” he added as he moved his finger over to a little Superman. 

“Otto,” Travis repeated.

“Yeah.” 

“He’s the boy who camed here with his Mom and Dad.”

“Right.” Awsten swallowed and lowered his voice even further. “He was supposed to come tomorrow, but now he’s not. That’s why I was…”

“Crying?” Travis supplied.

Awsten nodded. 

“Where’s he gonna be? I want to see that Mama again. Is she coming? Is she bringing more brownies for me?”

“I wanted to see her, too,” Awsten agreed sadly, “but since I hit Jawn, we can’t see any of them. That’s my consequence.” He wanted to add, _I wish Lucas had just hit me instead,_ because the actual punishment was a hundred times worse -no, a thousand - but he didn’t want to risk freaking Travis out again.

“Oh,” Travis replied, and that was the end of that. He picked the ice bag up again and peered back down at the picture. “Where’s your purple hair at?”

Awsten smiled in spite of his sadness. “I didn’t have that til this January.”

“You didn’t have it forever?”

“No, my natural hair is brown, see?” Awsten pushed his bangs up so Travis could see the roots growing in underneath. “Having purple hair when I was a kid would have been so fucking cool, though. Everybody would’ve been so jealous.”

“Have you ever had pink hair?”

“No. Blue for a little while last year, and now the purple.”

“But you and me’ll do pink?”

“Yeah.”

Travis smiled. Then he turned his attention back to the photo. “How come you’re wearing that?”

“It’s my Halloween costume. I was a zebra.”

“That’s why you got a happy pumpkin in your hand? Cause it’s Halloween?” 

Awsten’s eyes traveled down to the little orange, plastic pumpkins that he and Otto were clutching. He remembered being thrilled at the prospect of coming home with a bucket full of candy like the kids on TV. And thanks to Otto’s parents, that dream became reality. “Right.”

“Can I wear a Halloween outfit too?”

“I don’t know. You’d have to ask Lucas. It’s not for a while, though.”

“We didn’t get outfits last time, but we gaved candy to the kids at the church. None of them was zebras, though.” Travis leaned closer to the picture. “You make a good zebra.”

“Thanks, man.” 

The conversation was interrupted by a short knock at the door. Lucas. Awsten looked away.

“Hey. What are you two up to?”

“Awsten let me see his turtle!” Travis crowed. “And now he’s showing me his pictures! He had brown hair when he was a little boy.”

“Your turtle?” Lucas asked sharply, but Awsten held Oliver up a few inches, and Lucas relaxed. “Oh.” He dusted his palms off on his jeans. “Um, listen, Travis, I need you to go hang out with Ashton and Zakk some more. I’ve got to talk to Awsten downstairs.”

“Again?” Awsten asked quietly.

“Yes.” 

Awsten pressed his lips together into a line. 

“Did you finish your list?” Lucas asked. 

“Oh, um… no, sir. But I’ll start working on it as soon as we’re done.”

“Okay.” He turned to leave but the paused in the doorway, looking back over his shoulder. “Awsten, you really don’t need to call me sir.”

Awsten felt himself blushing a little with embarrassment. He was starting to feel like nothing he ever did would be right.

“Just go downstairs. Travis, come with me.”

Travis followed Lucas out into the hall, where he was dropped off at Zakk’s bedroom door like a little kid at daycare. Awsten trailed behind him the rest of the way down the stairs. He could see Jawn sulking on the blue couch, and Awsten suddenly wondered if he was being dragged into some mediated discussion.

And as it turned out, he was.

“Okay,” Lucas sighed a moment later. He sat down in a chair he’d removed from the school room and placed between the two couches. Jawn had taken a seat on the blue one, and Awsten was across from him on the maroon one with his knees pulled up to his chest. The two boys were angrily staring each other down, and Awsten couldn't deny that he felt a sort of sick satisfaction at the already-puffy and red spot forming a few inches under Jawn’s eye. He wondered if that was something his own parents experienced after dealing with him.

“Here’s the deal,” Lucas instructed. “Without any name calling or swearing, and definitely without any more violence, we’re going to talk through what just happened.” Lucas looked between the two teenagers. “This sort of aggression doesn’t come out of nowhere. And I know that there are probably things that have happened that I don’t know about, so now is the time to fill me in. Zakk told me that the two of you attempted to sort something out on your own - you had a discussion the other day, right?”

They both nodded.

“That is very mature.” He leaned forward slightly. “This, today, was not.” 

“It’s not my fault,” Jawn said immediately. “He punched me! I didn’t do anything.”

“That’s b-” Awsten started, but Lucas cut him off.

With a stern glare, he told them, “I’m not finished.”

Jawn let out a heavy sigh.

“Now. Jawn and I spoke about this earlier this morning, but here at Peace and Purpose, we have a three strikes and you’re out policy. Three severe behavioral issues like this, and we will have to find another place for you to go. I have talked this through with both of your therapists and social workers and determined that for both of you, that means going into the foster system.”

“Even me?” Awsten asked, his stomach twisting uncomfortably. 

“Yes. If you lose the privilege of staying here, you won’t be able to return to the Woods’ home.” 

Well, fuck. There went plan B. 

“Awsten, I need you to know, though - when violence against another person is involved, that counts as two strikes. Because of what happened earlier, you’ll only have one chance left.”

Jawn seemed to think this was amusing information. For Awsten, it was nothing short of devastating. He stared down at the hardwood.

“So. This places both of you at two strikes.” 

Awsten messed with his fingers in his lap, but as Lucas’ words sunk in, he tried - and failed - to conceal his surprise. Jawn had already done something else that serious? 

“If you’d like to stay here and not gamble with the system, I suggest that you take this seriously and try to have a constructive discussion.” He looked between them again. “Yes?”

“Yes,” they both mumbled in response.

“Good. Let’s start with Awsten, then. Go ahead and say whatever you want to say.”

Awsten shrugged one shoulder, his eyes still on the floor. “I don’t want to say anything.”

“Shall we have Jawn start?” 

“Sure. Whatever.”

“Alright. Jawn?”

“He says everything he thinks about me, even if it's mean,” Jawn accused. “He has no filter.”

“Because he’s a liar!” Awsten shot back. He looked at Jawn. "I'm just calling you out for it!"

“Awsten, you punched me in the face!”

“Because you’re a _liar!_ ”

“Okay, stop,” Lucas ordered. “Stop. This is not helping anyone.”

“I just don’t see the harm in telling you the truth,” Awsten shrugged.

“You could be nice like you told me to be,” Jawn snapped.

“Not when you’re a jerk to me. I gave you every chance I had.”

“And then you punched me,” he snorted.

“I was protecting all of us.”

“Okay, rewind,” Lucas said, holding an arm out between them. “Jawn, start over. Calmly. Both of you are angry, and that’s fine, but you need to relax for a moment, just enough so that we can come to an understanding. You gentlemen are almost adults, so let’s handle this like adults, please.”

Jawn sat up straighter. “I was gonna apologize to you for yesterday,” Jawn stated, and Awsten could feel Jawn’s eyes on him, “but then you _punched me in the fucking face_ , so that-”

“Language, Jawn,” Lucas chastised firmly.

“-went out the window.” With a glance at Lucas, he said, “Sorry.” Then he turned back to Awsten. “I get that you hate me, and that sucks, but I deserve it. The only difference is that I hate you, too, now. You told me you would never have said stuff about me at the dinner table to the other guys, right? Well, I want you to know that I would never have punched you in the face.”

“I thought I would never have punched you in the face, either,” Awsten muttered. 

“Awsten, explain to Jawn why you hit him. Not that it’s justified, but what was your motivation?”

Awsten looked at Lucas, disbelief written all over his face. “Because he stole and didn’t confess, and we all got in trouble, and he didn’t even get what he wanted out of it!”

“Okay,” Lucas placated. “Tell _him,_ not me.”

“You lied,” Awsten continued, that hot anger pooling back in his gut as he shifted his eyes over to Jawn, “all day. To everyone. You told lies to every single person in this house. And you knew what Ashton had gone through, and you saw that Travis didn’t understand what was happening, and I’m sure you heard me yelling about it at some point.” 

“I wasn’t trying to lie.”

Awsten rolled his eyes. “Oh my god. What does that even mean?”

“It just happened. And then by the time I realized Lucas was serious about the punishment, I was in too deep.”

“So, what, you just hoped it was gonna go away?” 

Jawn shrugged. “I mean, yeah…”

Awsten scoffed. 

“Jawn, can you explain why you took the razor?” 

“Because cutting is the only thing that actually helps me feel better.” 

Awsten made a disgusted face.

“Okay, let’s try to understand,” Lucas reminded him. “I know it’s not what you’re accustomed to, but just hear him out. Jawn, why does cutting work for you? Again - definitely not the best option as far as coping skills go, but what’s the draw?”

“When you cut,” Jawn began, and the words seemed almost memorized, “your brain releases a bunch of chemicals called endorphins. It’s the same chemicals you get from a runner’s high.”  
  
Awsten had never experienced that, but he could imagine.

“It makes everything bad in your head just… shut up.” He glanced at Lucas, waiting for another prompt, but none came. “I guess I was willing to put you guys through that because I knew the payoff for me would be worth it. At least, that’s what I thought at the time.” For the first time, Awsten could hear a flicker of regret in his voice. “I know that was wrong. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you,” Awsten muttered.  Wow, apologies were really different when grown-ups weren’t forcing them out of kids who didn’t actually feel bad about what they’d done.

“I know I took it way too far, but I was trying to protect myself. You were trying to protect everybody from getting punished, but I was trying to protect myself from exactly the same thing.”

“No,” Awsten snapped. “You were protecting yourself from something you did. I was trying to keep the rest of us out of trouble for something we _didn’t_ do.” He shook his head. “Don’t ever compare yourself to me.”

“Okay, relax,” Lucas said, nodding at both of them. “This is good. Are you guys getting a better sense of what each other was dealing with yesterday?” 

No response from either.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Lucas sighed. “Awsten, let’s go back to you defending Travis and Ashton.”

“What about it?” he asked crossly.

“Okay, bring the hostility down a notch-”

“Would you just sit still?!” Jawn exploded. “God, you’re worse than Travis!” 

Awsten stilled and stared, suddenly aware that he’d been jiggling his knee and tapping his fingers against his crossed arms. “Oh,” he muttered, caught off-guard. “Uh, sorry.” It had been a long time since he’d been called out for that, but it still hurt.

“Alright,” Lucas said softly. “Let’s take a break.” He stood up. “Awsten, go in the school room and work on your list. Are you wearing that to Bible study?"

"Uh, I was going to..."

"Okay. Then after you turn it in, you can read until it's time to go. Jawn, go up to the dining room and work on some homework.”

“How come he gets to go in the school room?” Jawn whined. 

Awsten rolled his eyes; it didn’t actually matter to Jawn, and all three of them knew that. 

“Because.” Lucas looked at Awsten and said, “It would help me out if you took this chair with you.”

Awsten nodded and stood up, glad for the promise of a distraction in the form of the story Mr. W had left. He didn’t wait around to hear Jawn complain more, just picked up the chair and walked with it into the school room. He half-dropped it back into place - his place, actually - and headed back to the door to close himself inside. The volume of Jawn’s protests was instantly reduced. 

Awsten spied the green book atop the stack of his school things, wanting to dive into it then, but instead, he forced himself to open a notebook and grab a mechanical pencil. Lucas was sure to come check on him in a few moments, and he wanted to be working. He'd caused too much trouble already, and now Awsten knew that not only did Lucas and Zakk have the power to take away Otto and Mom, but they could literally send him into the foster system.

Awsten stared down at the blank page and tapped his pencil absently against the table. “Um,” he muttered aloud, trying to concentrate. What kind of swear words did he even say? Well, there was fuck, shit, and goddamn… and pissed. Those were probably his most-used ones. 

_This is so stupid,_ he thought. Anything he wrote would sound incredibly dumb, so he just forced himself to start. Lucas wanted a list, so Awsten would give him a list.

_I’m mad_ , he scrawled to take the place of ‘I’m pissed.’

He figured he could use _You’re bothering me_ and _P_ _lease stop_ instead of ‘fuck off.’

  * _I am very upset right now._
  * _I need a minute to calm down._



Half of a smile found its way onto his face as he wrote, _‘Ugh.’_

  * _I’m having a hard time._
  * _I feel frustrated._



“Hey,” Lucas said, poking his head in.

  * _Leave me alone._



“Hey.”

Lucas walked over to Awsten and peered over his shoulder. “Wow. Working hard.”

“Uh-huh,” Awsten replied mindlessly.

  * _Can we take a break?_
  * _Stuff_
  * _Really_
  * _Very_



“These are great, Awsten,” Lucas said quietly once Awsten paused, wracking his brain for something else. 

Awsten didn’t reply. He was too busy trying to think.

“You can stop there if you want. That’s plenty.”

Awsten nodded and tore the page out of the notebook. He passed it to Lucas.

“I’ll put this in the office,” Lucas told him. “If you need to refer back to it, we can.”

Awsten nodded and reached for his book. 

“How’s your hand? I heard Travis snagged your ice.”

Awsten shrugged. 

Lucas sat down in Brendon’s usual chair. “Can you wiggle your fingers?”

He did.

"And can you make a fist?"

Awsten demonstrated, but he winced.

“Okay. I’m going to get you some more ice," Lucas said as he stood. "Keep it on your hand while you read, alright?”

“Kay.” As an afterthought, Awsten added, “Thanks.” 

 

* * *

 

_ The helping hands didn’t stop swarming around him until Thomas stood up straight and had the dust brushed from his shirt and pants. Still dazzled by the light, he staggered a bit. He was consumed with curiosity but still felt too ill to look closely at his surroundings.  _

_ His new companions said nothing as he swiveled his head around, trying to take it all in. As he rotated in a slow circle, the other kids snickered and stared; some reached out and poked him with a finger. There had to be at least fifty of them, their clothes smudged and sweaty as if they’d been hard at work, all shapes and sizes and races, their hair of varying lengths.  _

_ Thomas suddenly felt dizzy, his eyes flickering between the boys and the bizarre place in which he’d found himself. They stood in a vast courtyard several times the size of a football field, surrounded by four enormous walls made of gray stone and covered in spots with thick ivy. The walls had to be hundreds of feet high and formed a perfect square around them, each side split in the exact middle by an opening as tall as the walls themselves that, from what Thomas could see, led to passages and long corridors beyond.  _

_“Look at the Greenbean,” a scratchy voice said; Thomas couldn’t see who it came from. “Gonna break his shuck neck checkin’ out the new digs.”_

_ Several boys laughed.  _

_ “Shut your hole, Gally,” a deeper voice responded.  _

_ Thomas focused back in on the dozens of strangers around him. He knew he must look out of it—he felt like he’d been drugged. A tall kid with blond hair and a square jaw sniffed at him, his face devoid of expression. A short, pudgy boy fidgeted back and forth on his feet, looking up at Thomas with wide eyes. A thick, heavily muscled Asian kid folded his arms as he studied Thomas, his tight shirtsleeves rolled up to show off his biceps. A dark-skinned boy frowned—the same one who’d welcomed him. Countless others stared.  _

_ “Where am I?” Thomas asked, surprised at hearing his voice for the first time in his salvageable memory. It didn’t sound quite right—higher than he would’ve imagined.  _

_“Nowhere good.” This came from the dark-skinned boy. “Just slim yourself nice and calm.”_

_ “Which Keeper he gonna get?” someone shouted from the back of the crowd.  _

_ “I told ya, shuck-face,” a shrill voice responded. “He’s a klunk, so he’ll be a Slopper—no doubt about it.” The kid giggled like he’d just said the funniest thing in history.  _

_ Thomas once again felt a pressing ache of confusion—hearing so many words and phrases that didn’t make sense. Shank. Shuck. Keeper. Slopper. They popped out of the boys’ mouths so naturally it seemed odd for him not to understand. It was as if his memory loss had stolen a chunk of his language—it was disorienting. Different emotions battled for dominance in his mind and heart. Confusion. Curiosity. Panic. Fear. But laced through it all was the dark feeling of utter hopelessness, like the world had ended for him, had been wiped from his memory and replaced with something awful. He wanted to run and hide from these people.  _

_ The scratchy-voiced boy was talking. “—even do that much, bet my liver on it.” Thomas still couldn’t see his face. “I said shut your holes!” the dark boy yelled. “Keep yapping and next break’ll be cut in half!”  _

_ That must be their leader, Thomas realized. Hating how everyone gawked at him, he concentrated on studying the place the boy had called the Glade. The floor of the courtyard looked like it was made of huge stone blocks, many of them cracked and filled with long grasses and weeds. An odd, dilapidated wooden building near one of the corners of the square contrasted greatly with the gray stone. A few trees surrounded it, their roots like gnarled hands digging into the rock floor for food. Another corner of the compound held gardens—from where he was standing Thomas recognized corn, tomato plants, fruit trees. Across the courtyard from there stood wooden pens holding sheep and pigs and cows.  _

_ A large grove of trees filled the final corner; the closest ones looked crippled and close to dying. The sky overhead was cloudless and blue, but Thomas could see no sign of the sun despite the brightness of the day. The creeping shadows of the walls didn’t reveal the time or direction—it could be early morning or late afternoon. As he breathed in deeply, trying to settle his nerves, a mixture of smells bombarded him. Freshly turned dirt, manure, pine, something rotten and something sweet. Somehow he knew that these were the smells of a farm. _

_ Thomas looked back at his captors, feeling awkward but desperate to ask questions. Captors, he thought. Then, Why did that word pop into my head? He scanned their faces, taking in each expression, judging them. One boy’s eyes, flared with hatred, stopped him cold. He looked so angry, Thomas wouldn’t have been surprised if the kid came at him with a knife. He had black hair, and when they made eye contact, the boy shook his head and turned away, walking toward a greasy iron pole with a wooden bench next to it. A multicolored flag hung limply at the top of the pole, no wind to reveal its pattern. Shaken, Thomas stared at the boy’s back until he turned and took a seat. Thomas quickly looked away.  _

_ Suddenly the leader of the group—perhaps he was seventeen—took a step forward. He wore normal clothes: black T-shirt, jeans, tennis shoes, a digital watch. For some reason the clothing here surprised Thomas; it seemed like everyone should be wearing something more menacing—like prison garb. The dark-skinned boy had short-cropped hair, his face clean shaven. But other than the permanent scowl, there was nothing scary about him at all.  _

_ “It’s a long story, shank,” the boy said. “Piece by piece, you’ll learn—I’ll be takin’ you on the Tour tomorrow. Till then … just don’t break anything.” He held a hand out. “Name’s Alby.” He waited, clearly wanting to shake hands.  _

_ Thomas refused. Some instinct took over his actions and without saying anything he turned away from Alby and walked to a nearby tree, where he plopped down to sit with his back against the rough bark. Panic swelled inside him once again, almost too much to bear. But he took a deep breath and forced himself to try to accept the situation. Just go with it, he thought. You won’t figure out anything if you give in to fear.  _

_ “Then tell me,” Thomas called out, struggling to keep his voice even. “Tell me the long story.”  _

_ Alby glanced at the friends closest to him, rolling his eyes, and Thomas studied the crowd again. His original estimate had been close—there were probably fifty to sixty of them, ranging from boys in their mid-teens to young adults like Alby, who seemed to be one of the oldest.  _

_ At that moment, Thomas realized with a sickening lurch that he had no idea how old he was. His heart sank at the thought—he was so lost he didn’t even know his own age.  _

_ “Seriously,” he said, giving up on the show of courage. “Where am I?” _

 

* * *

** Room 121  
** ** March 19, 4:14 PM **

“Great work today,” Geoff smiled as his students started sliding their notebooks and pens back into their bags. “I mean it; I am very, very impressed by what I heard. If you haven’t submitted anything to the Lion’s Roar, I’d really like you to, okay? You all deserve to be published, and based on talent, you each have a great chance of your work getting in.” 

A couple of the kids chuckled in disbelief, but one stopped to ask Geoff’s opinion on which of two pieces he should submit to the literary journal. Geoff candidly replied, “Both,” and earned a surprised grin. 

As usual, the room cleared out quickly, but there was one student left when Geoff turned back to begin straightening the desks. “Emily? Are you alright?” 

She nodded but kept her eyes trained on the ground. She hitched her backpack onto her shoulder as if she was going to walk out of the room, but instead, she remained several feet away. 

“Emily,” Geoff repeated quietly. 

She looked up. “Where’s Awsten?” 

“Hmm?” That certainly hadn’t been the response he’d been expecting.

“Awsten Knight. He told me he’d be back at Writing Club, but he hasn’t been here twice now, and people are saying…”

Internally, Geoff winced. “Saying…?”

“That something bad happened to him. I don’t know.” She rubbed her elbows as if she were cold. “He had a black eye, and then the, um… that senior brought the gun to school,” she said carefully, “and then I never saw him again.” 

Geoff nodded and traveled closer to where his student was standing.

“I mean, just - is he okay? He didn’t get hurt or anything?”

“On Wednesday?”

She nodded.

“No, he didn’t,” Geoff confirmed.

“And he wasn’t…” 

He could sense her anxiety, but he waited patiently until she felt ready to speak.

“He wasn’t _involved_ , was he? Somebody said the police kept him back after what happened…”

“No,” Geoff said firmly. 

She nodded, relieved. “Okay. That's what I heard, but I wasn't sure anymore.”

“He’s safe.”

“You know where he is?” she asked, finally looking at him for the first time in the conversation.

“Yes, I do,” Geoff nodded. “I’m not able to tell you where, but I want you to know that he is absolutely safe. There are people taking care of him.”

“Okay,” she murmured, exhaling heavily. “I just haven’t seen him, but I thought he’d be here today.”

“No, I don’t suppose he’ll be back for a while,” Geoff told her quietly. He studied her as she stood there, unmoving. 

“I miss him.”

“He’s a good friend,” Geoff awkwardly supplied, unsure of the right thing to say.

“Do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Miss him.”

Geoff gave her a soft smile and an honest answer. “Of course I do.”

She nodded and started toward the door. “I finished Catcher In the Rye,” she told him as she walked. 

“You did?” he asked in surprise. His freshmen weren’t supposed to finish the book for nearly another week. 

“Mm-hmm. It was good.” 

“What did you think?”

“I liked it a lot. But I think a lot of the scenes were unnecessary.” 

Geoff nodded thoughtfully. He hadn't heard that before. “Which ones?” 

“The part in the bar with the girls, the part where he just wandered around in the dark… I don’t know. I really liked when he went to see his sister, though, how she was so happy to see him, but she immediately got mad at him. And then how he told her he was going to run away, and she packed a suitcase.” Emily smiled. “It reminded me of my little sister, Morgan.” 

“You have a sister?” Geoff asked, surprised.

“Mm-hmm. She’s older than Holden’s sister, but not much.” Emily’s smile faded. “She was the reason I didn’t come to school last Monday. She was so scared something was going to happen to me that she wouldn’t let me get on the bus. She was yanking on my arm, just crying and making this huge scene… Everyone was staring, so my mom said that I could stay home.” Emily confessed, “I don’t really think she wanted me to come, either.” 

Geoff nodded quietly. Nearly every day since March 5th, students had been approaching him and opening up about their experiences with the lockdown and its aftermath. It was good - wonderful, really, and very touching - to know that such a large number of the kids trusted him so much, especially students Geoff had barely spoken to in a few years, but Geoff’s heart was growing heavy. There was so much pain in this school… pain that he hadn’t even realized existed. 

The shooting had served as a band-aid. That’s how Geoff saw it, at least. Cruel parents that thought they might lose a child found a sudden, new appreciation (however short-lived it may have been) for the student that they saw as a burden. Siblings put their bickering on pause when they realized that despite being trapped in the same building, they might never see each other again. Grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins flew from all across the country to Lakeview to visit relatives they hadn’t seen in years. 

As for Geoff, he reached out to his father about an hour after he got home. The phone went unanswered, of course, but it was the first time he’d called California in what felt like a million years. And that was a sort of healing in itself.

“I’m very sorry,” Geoff told her quietly, “that you had to go through that.” 

Her cell phone lit up in her hand, and she looked down at it for a few seconds. “It’s my mom,” she told him distractedly. “She saw everyone else come out, and she’s asking where I am. I have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“Alright. Goodbye, Emily.” 

“Bye.”

He walked back to his desk and sat down in his chair. He was just starting to pack his things into his briefcase when her head popped back in.

“Hey - Mr. W?”

He looked over. “Yes?”

“Thanks for running Creative Writing Club. I really love it.”

He smiled. “Of course. I’m so glad.” 

And then she was gone. 

Geoff clicked his case shut, ready to go home, but he sat in his chair for several more minutes, just staring out at the sea of poorly arranged desks.

A door closed in the hallway, snapping Geoff back to his senses. He jiggled the mouse, bringing the desktop computer to life, and realized that nearly ten minutes had passed since he zoned out. He figured it was a good thing this therapy session Lucas had suggested was tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://miafic.tumblr.com/
> 
> http://otto-wood.tumblr.com/
> 
> @daysofaly on Instagram and Twitter
> 
> Aly From Tumblr on Youtube


	17. What Have I Done?

** FutureFaith Church  
March 19, 6:30 PM **

“There they are!” Jon grinned. “My CREW! Right on time! What’s up, guys?!” 

Ashton and Travis led the way into the small, carpeted space, and Awsten traveled several feet behind them. On the way up the stairs, Awsten had braced himself for the inevitable questions and comments, but now that he was in the room with all these people - especially Jon, who seemed to radiate joy and goodness - it felt like all of that preparation had been for nothing. He began to feel sick with guilt. 

Jon pulled Ashton and Travis each into one arm and then tugged Awsten into a separate hug a few seconds after. “You good? Having a good week?"

Awsten nodded. _Lie._

“Where’s Jawn?” Jon asked.

Ashton and Awsten traded a glance as Travis explained, “He’s coming! Zakk is walking with him!”

Jon nodded. “Okay, sweet. Is Lucas here, too?”

“No, he left. Zakk said he ‘cleaned up nice,’ but he didn’t clean anything. I saw him.”

“He meant the way he looked,” Ashton explained. 

“But Lucas is always real clean,” Travis protested, puzzled. "He uses soap every day before we make dinner."

Jon chuckled. “Go grab some pizza. You know the drill, yo - eat as much as you want,” he said as he shooed them toward the table. “Eat it all. Please. I’m begging you.” 

“Hey, guys!” Zoey chirped as the boys passed her. Her friend from the week before was with her again, but Awsten didn’t see Ciara in the room.

“Hi,” Awsten murmured. He kept walking even though Ashton and Travis stopped to talk to her.

From across the room, Nate made eye contact with Awsten and lifted two fingers in a peace sign. Awsten waved back, doing his best to force a smile. Selfishly, he heaped the two biggest pieces of pepperoni pizza he could find onto a paper plate and filled a cup to the brim with Sprite before making his way over, desperate to talk to someone who didn’t know what had happened after lunch. “Hey.”

Nate gave him a small nod.

“How’s your week?” he asked, sitting down across from him uninvited.

Awsten’s question was met with one thumb up. 

“Yeah.” Awsten stuffed the end of the pizza slice into his mouth. He chewed, swallowed, and was about to start asking yes or no questions about tag when suddenly there was a sharp gasp.

“Oh!” came a shocked yell, and Awsten knew without looking behind himself that Jawn must have walked into the room. The kids all went quiet, and Awsten watched Nate’s face for any hint of a reaction. There wasn’t much of one, just a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. 

The commotion at the entrance to the room died down fairly quickly, and everything returned to normal. Awsten stole a quick glance over his shoulder and saw that Zakk was leaning against the doorjamb and talking to Jon in a hushed voice. When Awsten turned back around, Nate was staring directly at him.

“What?” Awsten asked, avoiding eye contact.

Nate’s hands came up a few inches and made two distinct motions. He dragged his finger down his hand and then pointed forward with two fingers. Luckily for Awsten, at the same time Nate executed the signs, he mouthed, _What happened?_

Awsten just shook his head. 

Nate’s eyebrows went up. He pointed at Awsten and then subtly over at Jawn as if to ask, _You did that?_

Awsten sighed. So much for someone not knowing what took place at the house earlier. “Yeah, okay? I did it. But he deserved it.” 

He repeated the first signs, this time without the accompanying words. 

“He hurt Travis,” Awsten said simply, and a look of understanding crossed Nate’s face.

Eduardo came over just then with some pizza and whispered, “Whoa, did you guys see Jawn?”

Awsten grimaced and busied himself picking at the corner of his pizza crust. Suddenly, he didn’t feel very hungry.

 

* * *

 

 **Geoff’s House**  
** March 19, 6:41 PM **

Geoff stared at himself in the mirror. He still had nearly an hour before he had to be at the church, but he wanted to be there early to ensure he found the right building and actually managed to get himself inside.

His hands skimmed down the sides of his jeans, trying to smooth the already-pristine denim fabric. It had taken him several minutes to locate his lone pair of casual pants; they'd been tucked away in the storage closet since they were a little ways out of his comfort zone. His grandmother had made sure to drill into his head that “blue jeans were made for the working class, and we are _not_ a part of that, Geoff.” And it wasn’t that Geoff agreed with her that he was superior to other people - no, not at all. It was more that he could almost feel her cold, judging stare every time he went to put them on. 

But a part of him despised standing out, and he had no idea who would be at this meeting. Lucas had assured him that casual dress was more than fine, so jeans it was. He put on a heathered blue long sleeve shirt and slipped a coat over his shoulders. His hair had dried a little strangely from his shower, but he reminded himself that it wouldn’t be noticeable to anyone but him. 

With a glance at his watch, Geoff tore himself away from his reflection. “Tuna,” he called softly in the direction of the rest of the house, “would you like your dinner?” Under his breath, he mumbled, “I know it’s a bit early…” He usually fed her closer to seven, but he would be gone then, likely for a few hours, and he didn’t want her to grow hungry while he was away.

He walked out of his room and down the hallway toward the kitchen. Sun filtered through the stained glass window above the sink and left a dazzling rainbow of color on the hardwood, but the weather wasn’t warm enough yet for Tuna to be lounging in the light. Geoff knew she would appear momentarily, though. He opened the refrigerator and picked up her half-eaten can of cat food, lightly tapping it against the fridge shelf a few times. Sure enough, by the time he was spooning the last bits into her bowl, a rapid pitter-patter of petite paws announced her arrival. 

“Hello,” Geoff said to her with a little nod. “Are you hungry already?”

She let out an affirming meow. 

Geoff smiled down at her. He loved when it seemed as though she understood him and was trying to reply. “Alright. One moment, please.” He turned on the faucet, sprinkled some water into her dish, and then set it on the ground for her where she was patiently waiting. “There you go.”

While she began eating, he gathered his wallet and his car keys from the counter. He watched her for a moment and then told her, “You can expect me back at nine-thirty.” 

As usual, she didn’t even look up from her meal.

“Goodbye, Tuna.” He headed to the garage with anxieties swirling in his head. What if he was wearing the wrong thing? Was he supposed to bring anything? Food to share, a notebook…? Lucas had mentioned that the meeting was free, but he hadn’t said much else. Geoff felt entirely unprepared. And what was he thinking, planning to go to a room filled with strangers and share his thoughts about what had happened with Michael?

Perhaps Geoff just shouldn’t go at all. 

But then Lucas’ words flickered in the back of Geoff’s mind - _What would you want Awsten to do if he was in your shoes?_ He closed his eyes and straightened his posture before forcing himself to take a deep breath. “Alright,” he whispered. Then he turned the key in the ignition, opened the garage door, and began to back down the driveway.

 

* * *

 

** FutureFaith Church  
March 19, 7:01 PM **

“Here’s the game plan,” Jon stated.

At Jon and Big T’s instruction, all the students had gathered in a circle on the carpet. The lights were only halfway on, and Big T was going around lighting several vanilla candles that had been placed around the room.

“I had a conversation this week that reminded me that we’re all in different places on our walk with God. Some of you have known God for a long time. Some of you just met him. Others of you still feel like he’s a stranger or maybe like he’s not really even there at all. Each one of you spend different amounts of time with him and talk to him differently and think of him differently. All of that is fine. God has a plan for your relationship with him. You’re right where you’re supposed to be, and you’ll grow with time.” Jon paused and looked around. “But we can’t grow if we don’t ask questions. We can’t just blindly believe.”

Awsten pulled at a carpet string as he listened absently. He’d planted himself between Travis and Ashton, where he was shielded from both having to sit near Jawn and from having anyone ask him what the hell had happened.

“I know people say if you question God that you’re not a real believer.” Jon shook his head. “But I gotta say, man, I really don’t agree with that. I really, really don’t. ‘Cause if you don’t wonder, how do you know you believe in the first place? If you’ve never second-guessed something, you might as well be brainwashed into it.”

One of the girls let out a surprised laugh, and Jon shrugged candidly. “I’m just tellin’ the truth. You gotta decide for yourself. ‘Cause I can stand in front of the congregation downstairs and tell you all day that God loves you and God is real and Jesus died for you, and that’s awesome. But if you don’t really think about it and you just take in what I’m saying without having any questions _ever_ … then I’m sorry, but I think you might not be really plugged in.” 

Awsten noticed Eduardo nodding, which surprised him. He thought what Jon was saying seemed pretty crazy. It seemed to go against everything Awsten had heard about religion, which was that you were supposed to just believe no matter what. 

“So what we’re gonna do - thank you,” Jon muttered, cutting himself off to thank Big T for passing out sheets of notebook paper, “is we’re gonna split up like we did last week, but this time I’m gonna give you some paper, and a pencil, and a candle. I want you to take a few minutes and write down some questions you have about God or church or religion, anything like that. We’ll tear the questions up and mix ‘em up so they’re anonymous and then we can answer them. Sound good?”

Everyone nodded. 

“They can be as simple or as deep as you guys want. Whatever you’re wondering about.” He motioned for the small group to spread out. “No rush, alright? Take your time, and only come back when you’re ready.”

Awsten got his paper from Big T and muttered a word of thanks before going across the room to press his back to the wall. He sat and stared down at the blank paper and tried not to think about the one thing that was pressing down on his brain. It was a question he hadn’t even let himself ask, so he tried desperately to think of anything else. 

One minute ticked by.

His paper remained blank. 

Two minutes.

Still nothing.

People were writing, and someone was sniffling. Light music played overhead. Awsten steeled his jaw and tried to disconnect from the thoughts in his brain. 

Across the room after another minute or so, Jawn got up and walked over to Jon. They exchanged some quiet sentences, and then Awsten watched as Jawn ripped his paper into two halves and crumpled them both up into balls. Jon took his baseball cap off, flipped it upside-down, and held it out to Jawn, who dropped the paper into it. 

Zoey and Nate went to join Jawn a moment later. They dropped some paper into Jon’s hat as well. 

The [music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cvl-MfqvgkE) drifting around the ceiling was so gentle that Awsten felt like it was practically urging him to tell the truth, to ask his real question. He didn’t think it was very fair of Jon to always play these mushy, pretty songs during serious moments. 

“Couple more minutes,” Jon said softly. His voice seemed loud in the quiet room. 

Ashton went over and joined the circle, and then Travis, and then Eduardo, and soon only Awsten and Zoey’s friend were left out in the open space with the candles. 

Awsten was never one to drag an activity out, but he couldn’t push his question out of his mind. He knew in his gut that he wouldn’t feel able to return to the circle until he put it down on the paper, so with a deep breath, he leaned forward and hurriedly scrawled the words he’d tried so hard to ignore. He loudly tore the sentence off in an uneven chunk and crunched it up as tightly as he could. With his stomach twisting, he headed back over to everyone else and dropped the question into the middle of the pile. Zoey’s friend joined them barely fifteen seconds later.

“Before we start, I want you to remember that me and Big T are not God,” Jon stated. “We’ll do our best to answer y’all’s questions, but we’re only human. Okay?”

The kids were silent and still, clearly anxious or uncomfortable or both. 

“We’re gonna try to get to all of these, but I want to be thorough.” He looked around, taking a moment to study each of their faces. “If I don’t get to your question and you want an answer, or if any of these bring up more questions for you, I am here to talk. Any time. We can meet another day, or I’ll stay late tonight. Same for Big T, yeah?”

Big T nodded firmly.

“We’re here for you guys,” Jon assured. He scanned the circle again and cracked a reassuring smile. “Everybody breathe, yo. You guys look like I’m about to make you walk the plank.” He laughed. “We’re just gonna chat. It’s okay.” 

Jon jiggled his hat, shuffling the little balls of paper. “Alright.” He closed his eyes and murmured something under his breath that the kids couldn’t catch. Awsten assumed he was praying. Then Jon opened his eyes, reached into the baseball cap, and pulled out the first piece of paper.

 

* * *

 

 **First Baptist Church**  
** March 19, 7:29 PM **

“Hi!” a red-headed woman with a thick Texan accent called across the parking lot.

Geoff inwardly winced; she’d caught him halfway out of his car, debating with one foot on the asphalt whether to force himself inside or just bolt and try again the next week. He turned to look at her. “Good evening,” he replied with an attempt at a smile.

“Hi!” she repeated, heading in his direction as she juggled multiple thick folders, a notebook, a purse, and two bulky containers of what Geoff assumed to be coffee. 

“Oh,” Geoff said, standing instinctually and brushing off the flashback of the cardboard on the ground, “may I take some of that for you?”

“That would be great,” she admitted. “I just - I always assume I can carry everything, but by the time I get where I’m going, I think I need three extra arms.”

Geoff stepped quickly toward her and reached both hands out to catch one of her folders as it slipped out of her grip and fell toward the ground. 

“Thank you!” 

“Have you, by chance, considered a bigger bag?” Geoff wondered kindly, returning the folder to her and taking the drink containers instead. BOX O’ JOE, they declared in Dunkin' Donuts font. 

“I really need one, don’t I?” 

“Or perhaps a luggage cart,” he suggested, his eyebrows knitting together. 

She laughed. “You’re absolutely right!” As they started toward the doors of the church, she added, “I’m Tami Taylor. Are you here for group?”

“I… Yes. My name is Geoff Wigington.” 

“It’s nice to meet you, Geoff. I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Thank you. It’s very nice to meet you, too.” He wanted to open the door for her, but because of the boxes of coffee, he was unable, so he thanked her fervently as she held it for him. Warm air enveloped the pair as they stepped inside, and it was only then that Geoff realized how chilly it had been in the parking lot. 

“Are you from around here?” Tami inquired.

“Yes. I live in Lakeview.”

“Oh, great! I live right around there, too.” She motioned him into a stairwell just inside. They passed a vase nailed to the wall with pink and white flowers erupting out of it. As they rounded the corner and headed into the basement of the building, Geoff could hear a low, muttering voice echoing downstairs.

"So you found the church okay?"

"Yes," Geoff nodded.

She smiled at him and then called, “Hello, everyone!” 

Geoff followed her into the tiled space. A light toward the back of the room was flickering, making the room even dimmer than it already was. There was a small circle of metal, folding chairs, two of which were occupied by a bored-looking twig of a girl with impossibly long bleached hair and a man who was well dressed and appeared to be upper-middle class speaking quietly into his cell phone. That was the murmuring Geoff had heard. 

On one wall was positioned a framed painting of The Last Supper, and on the other, there was a large canvas depicting a woman whom Geoff assumed to be the Virgin Mary. He was suddenly very aware that he hadn’t set foot inside a church in three years, and he felt like the artwork could somehow tell. He hurried to set the coffee boxes down on the table and take a seat in the small circle, sure to keep his back to the paintings. He busied himself wiping his sweaty palms on the knees of his jeans. 

Jeans.

He shouldn’t have worn these. Grandmother was right; he really should just throw them out. _Or donate them_ , he mentally corrected. Someone somewhere would appreciate them. There was nothing wrong with them.

“Sorry I’m a little late,” Tami said to the group. “Taylor, it’s good to see you. How are you doing?” 

The blonde girl shrugged without looking up and quietly chewed her gum. 

Tami waved to the man on the phone, but the only reaction he gave was a forced smile and a hand lifted in return. 

As Geoff adjusted slightly to get comfortable and the chair squeaked, the girl across from him glanced over. He tried to smile at her, but she looked away before she could have possibly read his expression.  An image of Michael brooding in the back of his classroom suddenly popped into to Geoff’s mind, and his stomach dropped. Before he had too much time to fall into the discomfort and depression, though, the front door to the church banged open upstairs, and an enthusiastic yammering filled the air.

“-and he goes, ‘Mate, what the ‘ell do ya think you’re doing?!’” 

The girl, Taylor, let out a dramatic sigh and started patting her pockets. Geoff wondered if she could be searching for cigarettes.

A loud laugh sounded; the owner of the voice was getting closer. “You get me, you do, ma’am!” crowed the same guy. 

“That’ll be Dom,” Tami smiled fondly. “Here, Geoff, do you want something to drink?”

Coffee. 

The coffee tray...

He blinked to clear his mind. He really didn’t want any, but he should take some… _Be polite_ , he told himself. “Yes, please,” he lied, and he stood to go over to the table. 

“This one’s dark roast, and this one’s regular,” she said, pointing at each box as she spoke about it.

“Alright. Thank you.” He took a small cup off the top of the stack and filled it a little over halfway with the richer liquid. 

“Is that all you want?” Tami asked, and her tone reminded him of his grandmother.

“Yes, please. I just prefer a taste, if that’s alright.”

“Of course!” 

And then the man with the voice was bursting into the room, his facial expression and pink wardrobe as equally riveting as his voice. “Hey, man!” he greeted, but Geoff realized that he wasn’t speaking to one person; he had just referred to the four people in the room - half of them female - with a collective ‘man.’

Tami smiled. “Hi, Dom. Hi, Gloria. Come get your coffee and then have a seat.” 

Initially, Geoff hadn’t even noticed that Dom had looped his arm through another person’s. Once Tami spoke, though, Geoff processed the fact that there was an elderly woman at Dom’s side. Geoff felt instantly compelled to go rescue her from this loud and seemingly very young person, but he was too intimidated by Dom’s oversized personality to make himself move.

“D’you want anything, ma'am?” Dom asked Gloria. 

“No, dear, I think I’ll just have a seat. Thank you.”

“Gotcha!”

The woman took a chair near Geoff, leaving one empty space between them.

“Hello,” Geoff said quietly, leaning toward her. 

“Hi, dear,” she said with a timid smile. “I’m Gloria. I’ve only been here once, so I’m afraid I don’t remember meeting you…”

“Oh, we haven’t met,” Geoff reassured. “This is my first week. I just wanted to introduce myself. My name is Geoff.”

“I’m Gloria,” she repeated, holding her hand out for him. “How do you do?”

Geoff shook it, sure to be both firm and gentle. “How do you do?” he repeated, the familiar words rolling off his tongue for the first time in years. He suddenly felt much more at ease. 

And then Dom plopped down right between them, scalding hot coffee nearly sloshing out of his cup. “Ay, makin’ friends, are ya, Gloria?” he said brightly. He grinned at Geoff, and Geoff was overwhelmed by all the life exuding from the young man’s eyes. “How ya doin’, mate? I’m Dom.”

“Geoff Wigington.”

“Nice ta meetcha, Geoff Wigington!” Dom exclaimed. “How old are ya?” 

Geoff couldn’t help but crinkle his eyebrows at the absurd question. “I’m twenty-six.”

“Ah, I’m twenty-two, man!” Dom said happily. “I thought you might be older. I’m used ta being the youngest. But - not that you look _old_. And - and not that - not that there’s anythin’ wrong with being old!” he added, whipping around to face Gloria. “You’re lovely, you are, ma’am! Don’t worry!”

Geoff gently snorted in amusement. 

“What?” Dom asked curiously, turning back to face the English teacher. 

“Oh, you just… reminded me of someone.” 

Awsten. If Awsten was from the United Kingdom and also happened to be ingesting a considerable amount of benzedrine.

“Really?” Dom asked, interested. “I usually don’t get that. People usually say I’m one of a kind!” he beamed, the tip of his tongue protruding a little between his teeth as he grinned. 

Geoff smiled at him politely and hoped that he wasn’t on any unprescribed psycho-stimulants. He had a feeling this was going to be a long meeting.

 

* * *

 

** FutureFaith Church  
March 19, 7:31 PM **

Jon had been reading questions and answering them for a while. Questions like, _Can I still be a good Christian if I don’t read my Bible?_ (“Yes, but I promise it will make a difference if you read it. The Bible is like a road map.”) and _Is God mad at me when I’m purposefully mean to my sister?_ (“Not mad. But he doesn’t support that unkindness.”), stuff Awsten didn’t care about. But he sat quietly, because at least it was interesting trying to watch the faces of the other kids and guess who had submitted each question. Sometimes it was obvious. Sometimes it was impossible to determine. 

“Why is our God so different from the god the terrorists do stuff for?” Jon read, and his left hand drifted up to rub at the scruff on his chin. He took a long, slow breath - not at the question, but at the weight of the answer. Awsten shifted his attention over to Jon’s face, glad he didn’t have to be the one to answer that. 

“There’s one God,” Jon said carefully, “so the difference isn’t God. The difference is the people. Somewhere along the line, something got twisted up in the teachings.” He nodded at the words coming out of his own mouth. “Sometimes they have a different religious text than we do - sometimes, but not always. Christians are doing terrible stuff, too. And although a lot of the messages in religious books are similar and holy and good, the people reading them are imperfect. And they take the goodness that’s written, and they twist it into what they want it to say. They make it into a message of hatred and anger and condemnation. And then they go out and try to force those messages on other people, sometimes by hurting or killing them.” 

The room was completely silent.

“Jesus’ messages were of love,” Jon said fervently. “I never want you guys to forget that. Nowhere in the Bible does God call for you to harm anyone.”

Awsten noticed then that he’d been drumming his fingers on his knee. Remembering Jawn’s outburst about his fidgeting earlier in the day, he stopped himself, squeezing them tightly together in his opposite hand. 

“Understand?” Jon checked.

They nodded.

“Okay.” He reached back into his hat, pulled out a piece of paper, and then smiled. “Ah, I knew one of you was gonna ask this,” he chuckled. “Okay.” He cleared his throat. “Is masturbation a sin?” 

There was some giggling. 

“Shh, it’s a valid question. Especially at your age.” 

Jawn was whispering to Eduardo, and Zoey’s friend was saying something quietly to Zoey, so Jon said again, “Shh, shh… Here’s my philosophy on that, okay?” He grinned. “Yeah, I know. Shh… Okay. So lust is a sin. We know that. Lusting over another person or over a sexual act is sinful. But what if you’re not doing that? What if you’re just…” He paused, an amused smile on his face. “Taking care of your body’s needs, I guess.”

There was another quiet smatter of chuckling, mostly from the boys. 

Jon sighed, burying his face in his hands to hide his own laughter. After giving them a few seconds to get their giggles out, he said again, “My philosophy is if you wouldn’t do something in a church, you probably shouldn’t be doing it at all. But if you can somehow keep a pure mind…” He trailed off and then shrugged. 

He picked up another piece of paper, pressing it as flat as he could so he could read the words written on it. “What is Heaven like?” He smiled, and his shoulders raised a few inches. “Have any of you read Revelation?”

Two hands went up.

“Okay, cool. So, for those of you guys that haven’t, I’ll give you the synopsis. God sent this guy named John up to Heaven. And he came back and told everyone what he saw. So I want you to imagine that you, as you are now, just go up to Heaven with an angel. And you have to know - this stuff happens in the Bible, and these people it happens to are just going about their day. So just - just picture yourself at school like normal, and then BAM!” he shouted, and Travis giggled. “An angel comes, and all of a sudden, you’re zapped out of math class and you’re in _Heaven_.”

Awsten smiled in spite of himself. He would have liked that kind of a break from math earlier in the year.

“Actually - hang on. I wanna read this one part to you guys.” Jon reached behind himself and grabbed his Bible off the floor beside him. He opened it to the very back and then paged forward a bit. “Okay, yeah, here. It says, And there before me was a great multitude of people that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people, and language, standing before the throne and before the Lamb. They were wearing white robes and were holding palm branches in their hands.”

Jon scanned down the page and then picked back up, reading, “Then one of the elders asked me, These in white robes—who are they, and where did they come from? I answered, Sir, you know. And he said, These are they who have come out of the great tribulation; they have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. Therefore, they are before the throne of God and serve him day and night in his temple; and he who sits on the throne will shelter them with his presence. Never again will they hunger, never again will they thirst. The sun will not beat down on them, nor any scorching heat. For the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd; he will lead them to springs of living water. And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.” 

Jon shook his head as the last words left his mouth. “For the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd,” he repeated softly. “He will lead them to springs of living water. And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.” He closed his bible. “The God of the universe knows you, and he loves you, and he wants you to be in his home with him. Safe. Joyful. Protected.  _Loved_.”

While that last part sounded nice, the whole thing made Awsten feel weird. He didn’t think it sounded fun to spend all his time worshipping some giant lamb.

“It’s going to be the most amazing place. You’ll get to be with all the people you’ve lost, all your friends, all your family. You’re going to meet people you’ve never met, and you’re going to meet _God_ , and you get to hang out there every day.” Jon grinned. “I can’t _wait_ , you guys. I seriously can’t wait.”

He picked up his hat and tossed it around a bit, letting the papers shuffle up again. Then he chose one, smoothed out the crinkles, and read, “Does…” He nodded down at the paper as if he were really concentrating on the words, and then he started over. “Does someone who commits suicide automatically go to Hell?” 

Awsten tried not to react because of the little game he’d been playing based on other people’s reactions, but he couldn’t help but look down in shame as his question was addressed. 

“If any of you,” Jon said firmly, “are even _thinking_ about suicide, I want you to come to me. Or Big T, or your family, or your teachers, or your counselors. Okay?” 

No one responded.

“I said, _okay_?” he repeated loudly.

“Okay,” a few of the kids murmured.

“You are _not_ alone. You do _not_ have to feel like this.” 

_That wasn’t the question,_ Awsten wanted to say.

“We are here, and we _love you_ , and we want to help.” He let the words sit for a moment before he continued. “With that being said, no, I don’t believe that people who end their lives automatically go to Hell. I don’t think God would bar someone from Heaven because of that. It would hurt him, though, because he’s given you life. And he has a plan for you, and for you to completely reject all the wondrous things he’s laid out for you…” Jon sighed. “He knows your pain, though. He feels everything you feel. He feels your joy and your excitement, and he feels your depression and your anger and your heartbreak just as strongly. You get to Heaven through your belief, not your works.”

Was Michael a Christian? Probably not. And Awsten’s mother definitely wasn’t. So why had he even bothered to ask the question? He was only wasting everyone’s time. 

As Jon continued speaking, Awsten heard the timid confession in his ear; _Because you want to talk about what happened._ He brushed it off and forced himself to tune back in.

“Even if you feel completely alone, you’re not. God loves you, and I love you. That’s two right there.”

“I love you, too,” Big T murmured.

“Three,” Jon counted. “That’s three people who love you right in this room. Every single one of you.” He pointed around the circle. “If anyone needs to talk, me and Big T are here. I want you to promise me you’ll talk to someone before you do anything. We can - you know what? Everybody raise your right hand.”

Everyone did, except for Travis, who held up his left.

“Now say, ‘I promise to talk to an adult if I ever want to hurt myself.’”

“I promise to talk to an adult if I ever want to hurt myself,” they chorused quietly.

“Good.” He went to the next question. As he opened the paper, he smiled sadly. “Ah. I was so hoping one of you would ask this.” He cleared his throat and read, “Does God hate me for being gay?”

 

* * *

 

** First Baptist Church  
March 19, 7:35 PM **

“Hi, everyone!” Tami chirped from her chair, clasping her hands together. The already-quiet room fell silent. “Thank you all for coming out to group tonight. I’m so glad to see all of you here. Just in case you forgot, my name is Tami, and I’m a licensed therapist.” She smiled around the circle. “Everyone will get a chance to share tonight, so don’t worry. And if you’re not comfortable sharing, that’s totally fine, too. You are welcome to just listen.” 

Geoff was comforted by that.

“If I have to stop someone while they’re sharing, it’s nothing personal - we just need to leave time for everyone to have a turn. And if any of you have something to add or suggest after another member of the group shares, you are welcome to do so kindly. And remember, it's also important that we value confidentiality. Everything shared tonight is private and needs to stay private." She smiled invitingly. "Is there anyone who would like to volunteer to go first?”

Taylor, the girl with bleached hair down to her waist who was lazily chewing gum, raised her hand. “Wanna get it over with,” she muttered.

Tami passed her a stress ball. “Go ahead, Taylor. What would you like to share with us today?”

“Um, yeah. I saw my P.O. on Monday, and she said I’m doing good.”

“That’s great!” Tami encouraged.

Taylor shrugged, squeezing the stress ball several times. 

“So you’ve been staying clean?” Tami prompted. 

“Yeah. I guess it’s not so hard anymore.” 

“Great!” Tami had to keep pressing Taylor for details, and after several minutes, Geoff slowly came to understand that Taylor was at the meeting as part of her drug court probation. This was mandatory for her.  The longer he listened, though, and the more other people took turns sharing, Geoff became pretty sure that Taylor was the only one in that situation. 

Dom, the wild twenty-two year old sitting on Geoff’s right, went next, sure to wait until Taylor tossed the little ball to him. Geoff figured it served as a talking stick. 

Dom spoke a little about his new job and how it had been going really well. He turned serious after a few minutes, but his personality stayed the same, big and loud and commanding, even as he explained the way he’d spent fifty percent of his week feeling like his depression had been swallowing him whole. 

“I dunno, man, I just - I get so _tired,_ yeah? And it’s like, I haven’t even _done_ anything. I have no reason to be tired, man. It’s more like my brain is tired than my body is, d’you know what I mean? And I can’t fix it, no matter what I do. I have to just live with it. But honestly, working with the kids has been opening my eyes a lot. They’ve been through so much, but they still have so much joy, you know? Some of ‘em - at one of the sessions, there was a kid - like a kid with a mental disability, ya know, and he and this other kid in the group, they got up and started dancing! Without a fuckin’ care in the world.” 

Gloria flinched at the use of the expletive, and Geoff noticed, but Dom didn’t. He shook his head and continued, “I’ve been through so much, but they have, too, d’you know what I mean? And I’m not saying it _won’t_  happen, cause I know someday it will for me, I know that, man. But I just wish I could have a day like that to dance around and be happy.” 

“You’re right," Tami told him. "Your day will come.”

"Yeah."

“It sounds like you’re helping them, and they’re helping you, too,” Tami smiled. 

“Where do you work?” Geoff asked him softly. 

“Oh - sorry, man, I shoulda said! I’m a music therapist, mate. I just graduated in December, so it took a little while to find a job. But I really like it. I’ve been workin’ with middle and high school age.”

“That’s wonderful,” Geoff replied sincerely. “The kids must enjoy you.”

“I hope so,” Dom admitted, a smile finally returning to his face.

Tami seemed pleased with the interaction.

Gloria went next, and she spoke quietly about her husband Hugh who had very suddenly died in his sleep. Geoff listened sympathetically, and he silently reprimanded himself when, as she began to cry, his eyes welled up with tears, too.

 

* * *

 

 **FutureFaith Church**  
**March 19, 7:39 PM**

“This is a hot debate right now, which I think is _ridiculous_ ,” Jon spat. The words flew out of his mouth so aggressively that Awsten’s gaze drew back up from his shoes. “I know I said that I can’t speak for God because I am obviously not him, but I am completely comfortable answering this question.”

He looked around at all the kids. “The answer is no. God does not hate you for being gay. Absolutely not. And I can tell you why - our God is a loving God. So if you look at the first three words of this question, which say, ‘does God hate.’ No. God does not hate. God doesn’t hate people who lie, or people from certain countries, or people who don’t go to church. And he doesn’t hate people who curse or who run red lights or even people who do really bad things like kill other people.” Jon shook his head. “And God definitely doesn’t hate you because you love someone.” 

Awsten didn’t have the courage to look around the circle to try to figure out who had asked the question. That time, and particularly with that question, it didn’t feel right. It would have been less of a game and more of an invasion of privacy, and Awsten didn’t want to engage in that.

“There is this thing called grace. And there’s this thing called everlasting love. And there’s this thing called unconditional love. All of those things apply to you. Whatever you’ve done in the past that’s wrong, whatever you’re doing right now that’s wrong - because all of us sin every single day - God still loves you the same.”

Someone exhaled through their nose in disbelief, and Jon sat up straighter. “Listen, listen, listen. Your identity?” He paused to really look at the kids sitting around him. “Your identity is not in who you’re attracted to. It’s not in who you want to have sex with or who you marry. People say this and that about gay people or bisexual people or trans people, but you know what?" He shook his head. "Screw that. Okay? I know I'm not supposed to say that, but...

"They may not like it, but that doesn't mean that God is going to condemn you for something that other people don't understand. Those people that get out there with their stupid signs and yell their hatred at - at  _funerals_? Targeting grieving families? Jesus would never do that. I promise you. I _promise_. When Jesus saw something wrong, he went to people calmly. He went to people with love. And he talked to them about their sin and showed them his heart and his forgiveness. That - that church and all the other churches and people like that, they are not following Jesus' teachings. I need you guys to know that. That is wrong. This church will not do that, ever. Ever. No church should be doing that ever."

Big T nodded firmly.

"Your identity," Jon continued, going back to his original point, "is that you are a child of the King. Your identity is that Jesus came here and he died for you. And he saw what you were going to do. He knew that on Thursday three years ago, you lied to your friend at lunch. He knew that today you were going to deceive someone. He knows that five years from now you’ll experience lust, forty years from now, you’ll covet something, and that all this time you’ve been gay. And he came here for you anyway. And he looked at you, and he said ‘I love you so much that I’m going to get on that cross for you.’ 

“I don’t know your handwriting, so I don’t know who asked this question. I don’t know what your family’s stance is on this or what your friends might think about this or even what you think about it yourself. I don't know if people have called you names, or if they're accepting of you, or both. I don’t know if you’ve told a few people, or if you’ve told a lot of people, or if you haven’t told anyone. Maybe this is the first time you’re really even acknowledging it to yourself. But I hope…” He slowly let out a breath, forcing himself to speak more quietly. “I hope you know that, like I said a minute ago, I love you. Me and Big T, we’re fine with it. We don’t care, okay? We’re just glad you’re here, and we’re glad you trusted us enough to ask this, and we’re…” 

Awsten watched in surprise as Jon bowed his head. A hand rose to cover his eyes.

“Look, I pray for every one of you guys,” Jon confessed softly, not looking back up, “every night. By name. Every single one of you, every single night. I may only see you for a little bit, and I may only get to know most of you on the surface, but I pray for you. And that’s not because oh, I see flaws in you, or oh, you know, I think there are ways you can improve as a person, no. No. It’s because I love you. I want you to feel comforted by God. I want you to feel his presence. And I ask that for each of you by name. There are no exceptions. And there are no exceptions with God, either.”

“Amen,” Big T murmured.

Jon sniffed and looked up, and Awsten was surprised to see that his eyes looked bloodshot.

“There’s no time in the bible where God says, all you have to do to get into heaven is believe in me and accept me into your heart - unless you’re gay, in which case I don’t want you. I mean, can you imagine if - if in Matthew, Jesus had been sitting there, and he said, ‘let the little children come to me, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to those such as these - unless they turn out to be gay.’” He shook his head. “That's not the way it works. You guys are good kids. And you are made up of so much more than the group of people you’re attracted to. You're worth more than that. To me, and to God. Okay?”

 

* * *

 

** First Baptist Church  
March 19, 8:01 PM **

The man on Geoff’s other side - Tim, Geoff had learned - had just finished talking about the car accident he’d caused and the guilt and post-traumatic stress it had left him with when Tami prompted, “And Geoff? Do you feel comfortable sharing today?”

Geoff had realized a moment before that he was the last one in the group that hadn't shared, but he'd gotten so wrapped up in listening to the man beside him tell his story that it had completely slipped his mind. He nodded. “Yes… My name is Geoff.”

“Hi, Geoff,” the circle replied.

“Hello. Oh - thank you,” he murmured as Tim passed the stress ball to him. Absently, Geoff gave it a little squeeze and then looked up at Tami. “I’m not entirely sure where you’d like me to begin.”

Tami was ready with her suggestion. “Why don’t you tell us a little about yourself and what brought you to the meeting?”

He nodded. “Alright. As I said, my name is Geoff. I’m twenty-six years old. I’ve spent most of my life living in southern California, although my father’s family is originally from here in Lakeview. I moved to Texas to attend Rice University and graduated a few years ago with a Master’s degree in teaching. This area became home to me during that time. It’s so different from what I was used to, and I enjoyed that, so I stayed. I teach English to freshmen and seniors at Lakeview High now.”

There was a collective hum of understanding as Geoff mentioned the school.

“Yes… You all know what took place on the fifth, I assume. That incident is what brought me here.”

“Could you tell us what happened?” Tami asked. “Just in case someone doesn’t know.”

“Yes.” Geoff squeezed the stress ball again as he felt his heart speed up in his chest. “One of my students brought a gun to school,” he explained softly, “intending to harm everyone he could. Before he could do so…” Geoff paused and looked up. “What I’m about to say is not classified information, but it has not been included in the reports, either. For the sake of the student in question, I’d greatly appreciate it if my words stayed in this room.”

“Of course,” Tami assured.

Geoff nodded. “Before the student with the weapon could harm anyone, another one of my students stopped him and led him outside so that the rest of the school would be safe. It was incredibly brave, but… the boy who brought the gun ended his own life barely a foot in front of the student who stopped the shooting from taking place.” 

The room was silent.

“One of my students is dead,” Geoff stated bluntly. “The other is traumatized. And I think I’ve been… largely affected as well, along with all of the Lakeview students and teachers. We were in a lockdown for over thirty minutes, and we heard the gun go off. But both boys, the one that brought the gun and the one that stopped him, were-” He very suddenly stopped speaking; his eyes had blurred with tears so quickly that he had startled himself. “I’m very sorry,” he whispered. “Please allow me a moment.”

“Of course, Geoff. Take your time,” Tami said gently. 

Geoff focused on the flickering light behind the circle of chairs and breathed deeply through his nose. He followed Tami’s direction to take his time, because he knew that he wouldn’t mind waiting a little while for someone who wanted to hold onto their composure. He hoped they wouldn’t mind waiting for him as well. 

“Thank you,” he finally said. “What I was going to say was that both of the boys were supposed to have been in my first period class. But Aw- one of them,” he corrected quickly, “was always late, and the other brought the gun.” Absently and slowly, he rolled the stress ball between his palms. “It almost seems as though the boy with the gun killed the other one and then himself, because neither of them are at school anymore.” 

One of the chairs squeaked as someone shifted.

“I feel horrible,” Geoff continued, his voice lowering, “because part of me is glad that I don’t have to see the one that survived. Please understand that I - I care for him very, very much. I am immensely grateful that he wasn’t harmed. But it is challenging enough to see the reminders around the rest of the school every day and around the town. I think if he were still at school as traumatized as he is now, it would be much more difficult for me.” He smiled emptily. “And then I become trapped in a cycle of guilt, you see, because I know that that trauma that I’m so eager to sweep under the rug is his everyday reality. He will never escape it.” 

He wasn’t quite done, but Dom spoke anyway. “Fuck, man, that's awful. I’m so sorry. _Fuck_.” 

A memory of Awsten swearing while he spoke enthusiastically to Alex during class made its way into Geoff's mind. “You reminded me of him again. The… the boy who survived. You remind me of him very much - the way he used to be.”He swallowed. “He is different now. He’s… quiet. I've only seen him once since the chaos died down, but…” Geoff nodded to himself. “I could feel it, the difference. He has become quiet.”

 

* * *

 

** FutureFaith Church  
March 19, 8:03 PM **

Zakk was waiting in the hallway when the boys spilled out of the room. “Hey,” he said with a kind smile. “You guys ready to head home?” 

No one responded, not even Travis. 

“Okay, then... Weird. Let’s go.”

Awsten climbed into the van last, and he was glad to see that Travis had taken a seat beside Jawn, so he wouldn’t have to. The trip home was quiet - so quiet that Zakk didn’t even try to get the boys to talk. He just let the radio play while he drove through the darkness. 

They unloaded slowly in the driveway and waited silently behind for Zakk to let them inside. Jawn shoved his way through the kitchen door and rushed up the stairs, headed straight for the shower. 

“Ash, you okay?” Awsten heard Zakk ask. The question wasn’t met with a verbal answer, but Awsten assumed that Ashton had nodded. “Trav?”

Awsten continued up the stairs with Ashton on his tail, but Awsten paused just inside his bedroom - ignoring the folded piece of notebook paper on his quilt with his name on it - to listen to the conversation taking place at the bottom of the steps.

“What happened at bible study, dude? Is everything okay?” Zakk asked Travis.

“Yeah,” Travis replied.

“Did you or the other boys get into an argument?”

“I don’t think so…”

“Why are you so quiet? Hey, wait - you wanna sit on the couch?”

“No!” Travis yelled worriedly.

Zakk’s second proposal was much calmer. “Can we sit on the stairs then? Just for a minute.”

“One minute?”

“Just one.”

“…okay.”

Awsten could hear the sound of them settling onto the bottom steps. 

“What happened at bible study?” Zakk repeated. 

“I dunno,” Travis murmured. “It was sad.”

“It was sad?” Zakk echoed curiously. “Why was it sad?”

“We asked real sad questions, and Jon answered them.”

“Oh, I see. And it made you feel upset?”

“Uh-huh,” Travis confirmed glumly.

“Do you think the other boys might be feeling down because of that, too?”

Silence.

“Hmm. Okay.” He paused. “Do you maybe feel like telling me about it?”

“Yeah,” Travis murmured. 

“Okay.” 

Awsten knew he should walk away and give Travis his privacy, but he didn’t want to. 

“I didn’t know,” Travis began, “how everybody in bible study was feelin’ so sad.” 

“Why do you think they were sad?”

“Cause everything they were asking about was sad. Like how come God makes them fight with their brothers and sisters and if you go to Hell when you die and if God gets mad at us for doing stuff.”

“Did you ask a question?” Zakk asked.

“Yeah. I asked about how God for us and God for bad people can be the same God.”

“That’s a really great question,” Zakk replied, and Awsten noticed that Zakk didn’t seem surprised the way other people did when Travis said something smart. “What did Jon say?”

“They don’t read the Bible the same way we do, and since they don’t understand it right, they think it’s telling them to do bad things.” 

“Wow.”

“Do you think that’s right?” Travis asked, and Awsten could practically see the pout on Travis’ face.

“Yeah, I do, man. I think there’s a whole lot more to it than that, but I do agree with that.”

Quiet fell between them.

“Zakk?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s… suicide?”

There was a beat of quiet. Then, too calmly, Zakk asked, “Why? Was one of the boys talking about it?”

“No, but in bible study, somebody asked if suicide makes you go to Hell.” 

“Oh. I think it does.” 

Awsten’s stomach lurched.

“No, no, Jon - Jon said it doesn’t.” 

“Well,” Zakk hummed amiably, “Jon’s not God, and neither am I. We don’t have all the answers, T. We don’t really know. We can only try to guess.”

“Oh.” He was quiet for a second. “But you didn’t tell me what it is.” 

“Yeah, you’re right. I didn’t. Um… Suicide is when someone decides that they don’t want to live anymore, and they do something to make themselves die.” 

“What?!” Travis exclaimed.

“Shh, I know. It’s very scary.”

“That’s VERY scary!” Travis repeated, and he sounded panicked. “Lucas says when you die, you can never come back! Not ever!”

“That’s right,” Zakk agreed gravely.

“Why would somebody do that?!”

“It’s different for a lot of people. Most of them are in pain. Or afraid.”

“Of what?”

Zakk didn’t respond. 

Awsten pressed his forehead against the wall and his fingers over his face. He wanted to sit with Zakk and Travis and spill the secret about his mom and talk about what Michael did with the gun and admit that he didn’t know what to think or how to feel or what to do, but he couldn’t. Still, the need for human contact outweighed his desire to hide in the dark, so his feet started to carry him out onto the landing and over to the staircase.

“Aws? You okay, buddy?” Zakk inquired as Awsten came down the stairs toward him. 

Awsten didn’t respond, but he sat down when he got to the step Zakk was sitting on. 

“Hey, you okay?” Zakk repeated. 

Awsten shrugged. 

“Maybe he needed some comp’ny,” Travis suggested. 

“You just wanna hang out?” Zakk asked gently. 

What he wanted was to burst into tears. 

But that couldn’t happen here. No one would even give him a hug, and he wasn’t about to break down in this house in front of Jawn where everyone would just stare at him. Crying was weakness, anyway. 

Awsten found himself wanting to be with Otto, and the anger flared up again. He suddenly wished Lucas was there so he could give the man in charge a piece of his mind. But this was all Jawn’s fault. Inwardly, he sighed. How the hell were they supposed to sleep in the same room without more fighting?

Awsten finally forced himself to nod.

“Travis was just telling me that bible study was tough tonight.”

No response.

“You wanna share anything about it? No judgement, dude. Just some listening ears.”

_I feel so weak and stupid and I hate myself for being so angry but I hate my parents more and I hate Jawn even more than them and Lucas won’t let me see Otto so I want to run away and I paid attention to the roads tonight so I know how to get the fuck out of here and my mom fucking killed herself with no warning and I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about that and the kid I sat with in class every day tried to kill me but he just blew his own brains out instead and I got all covered in his blood and -_

“Awsten, should I go and get your turtle?” Travis wondered as Awsten's intense silence continued.

“No,” Awsten whispered, “but… my sweatshirt’s in the bottom drawer.” 

“You want it?” Travis asked.

Awsten just nodded. 

“I’ll get it!” Travis declared, and he hurried up the stairs. “Don’t worry, Awsten, I’ll find it!”

“Dude,” Zakk murmured, gently bumping his knee into Awsten’s, “what’s going on? You guys all look…”

Awsten shook his head. 

“Kay. If you wanna talk, I’m here. Lucas should be back any minute. I know he’s planning to meet with you and Jawn again, so if you want to talk then, you can, too.”

Travis scurried back, the hoodie spilling over his hands. “I found it, I found it!” he announced triumphantly. 

“Thanks, Trav,” Awsten said quietly as Travis passed it to him. 

“Thank you, Travis,” Zakk added. “That was very quick.”

“I was fast!” 

“You certainly were, bud.”

“I was fast for Awsten!”

Awsten shrugged the heavy fabric over his arms and unconsciously pressed his nose into the inside of the collar, breathing in. It smelled a little like the entry of Mr. W’s big house.

“Awsten,” Zakk started quietly, his eyes back on the boy, "ar-"

“I don’t wanna talk,” Awsten blurted rudely. 

“Okay. That’s fine. You can just sit with us.” 

Awsten nodded, pulling the long sleeves down to flop over his hands. He wound up staying and listening to Zakk and Travis talk about nothing until Zakk told them it was time to get ready for bed because the night meeting would be starting soon. 

“When’s Lucas coming home?” Travis inquired as he got to his feet. 

Awsten looked up, vaguely interested in the answer. 

“Any minute. Go brush your teeth and get your pajamas on.” 

But by the time the meeting was over and the boys were getting in bed, there was still no sign of Lucas. Ashton seemed overly worried about it, and Jawn was starting to seem worried, too. Awsten was just worried about spending the night in the room with the guy he'd punched that afternoon. 

“Don’t murder me in my sleep,” Jawn grumbled as he got into bed. 

“I won’t if you won’t,” Awsten shot back.

Those words marked the first verbal interaction they’d had in hours despite spending nearly every minute of that time in the same rooms. 

Zakk came by a moment later to bid them sweet dreams. “Behave,” he tacked on.

“Is Lucas okay?” Jawn inquired.

“Yes. He’ll be back really soon. Goodnight, guys.” 

“Night,” they both replied softly.

The room was silent. Awsten only spent a moment tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable. As usual, he had no plans to sleep, but he must have drifted off pretty quickly, because he was dragged back into full consciousness by a creak on the landing. A dark shape had materialized in the doorway, and Awsten would have jumped if he had been more awake. The shape stared into the room, right at Awsten’s bed. Awsten stared back.

For several seconds, nothing happened, but then the dark shape - Lucas - lifted its hand in a wave.

Awsten responded with a small wave of his own. “You were gone,” he accused in a whisper.

Lucas’ outline nodded.

“Zakk said you’d be back. He said you were gonna talk to us some more.”

“I got tied up,” Lucas explained softly. 

Awsten was glad that he had. “It’s okay. I didn’t want to talk to Jawn more anyway.”

“Tomorrow.”

“Kay.”

“Get some sleep.”

Awsten shook his head anxiously. “I’ll have a nightmare.”

Lucas slowly came forward into the room, right up to the head of Awsten’s bed. He crouched down beside it, beside Awsten, and somehow, Awsten felt comforted by this. It felt vaguely familiar, like a flicker of something long forgotten. Any memory attached to it was far too distant to reach. 

“You might,” Lucas murmured with a nod, “but you need the rest.”

“I don’t want it.”

Lucas’ reply was patient, not angry. “I know.”

Lucas didn’t say anything else, so for a while, so Awsten didn’t either. Awsten realized in the long stretch of silence that rain was falling, had been falling since the boys got home. He’d been hearing it for over an hour, but for some reason, his brain hadn’t consciously processed it.

“Otto’s really not coming?” Awsten finally whispered.

Lucas shook his head.

“Okay.”

“Okay,” Lucas echoed.

“I keep being mad at you and then not mad,” Awsten confessed quietly, forcing an empty laugh. “I know it’s my fault. But you picked the punishment.”  
  
Lucas nodded attentively.

Awsten stared at him, wondering why the hell he wasn’t defending himself. It was weird. Usually if he pointed any blame towards someone, they lashed out. But Lucas didn’t do that. He just stayed.

Lucas was rational. Even when things were crazy, Lucas wasn’t. 

Maybe he would listen. After all, he kept encouraging Awsten to talk…

“I want to tell you something,” Awsten whispered before he had time to think about stopping himself.

Lucas promised, “I’m listening.” 

He tugged the covers up to his chin so he felt safer as he offered the very tip top of the iceberg to the darkness. “The last time I saw my real mom, she told my dad to hit me.”

Lucas nodded, his eyes focused solely on Awsten. There were a few seconds of quiet, and then - “I’m really sorry that that happened to you.”

Awsten nodded. “Me, too.” He turned over on his side so that his back was facing Lucas. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Awsten,” Lucas replied as he stood up from his place on the floor. “Sleep well.”

Awsten closed his eyes and ignored the feeling of Lucas hovering in the doorway for a moment. He was glad when Lucas retreated past the bathroom to Ashton and Travis’ room. He could hear Travis talking excitedly to Lucas about something followed by Lucas quietly answering Travis’ stream of questions. Those were the sounds he fell back asleep to.

 

* * *

**Geoff's House**  
**March 19, 11:24 PM**

With Tuna curled up under the desk by his feet and an old, clunky laptop open in front of him, Geoff began preparing for the next few days of class. This involved, of course, re-reading the final chapters of The Five People You Meet In Heaven. (How could he expect his students to be willing to do the work if he himself wasn’t?)

He took a slow sip from his teacup, dreading the pages that were coming and the new experiences he had under his belt that he knew would change his interpretation of the paragraphs he’d read countless times. Perhaps he should have made a change to his lesson plan.

But the unit was nearly over. It was far too late for that.

 

_"Tala . . ." he whispered._

_"Tala," the little girl said, smiling at her own name._

_"Why are you here, in heaven?”_

_She lowered the pipe cleaner dog he’d made for her. "You burn me. You make me fire."_

_Eddie felt a pounding behind his eyes. His head began to rush. His breathing quickened._

_"You were in the Philippines . . . the shadow . . . in that hut. . . ."_

_"The nipa. Ina say be safe there. Wait for her. Be safe. Then big noise. Big fire. You burn me." She shrugged her narrow shoulders. "Not safe."_

_Eddie swallowed. His hands trembled. He looked into her deep, black eyes and he tried to smile, as if it were a medicine the little girl needed. She smiled back, but this only made him fall apart. His face collapsed, and he buried it in his palms. His shoulders and lungs gave way. The darkness that had shadowed him all those years was revealing itself at last, it was real, flesh and blood, this child, this lovely child, he had killed her, burned her to death, the bad dreams he'd suffered, he'd deserved every one._

_He had seen something! That shadow in the flame! Death by his hand! By his own fiery hand! A flood of tears soaked through his fingers and his soul seemed to plummet. He wailed then, and a howl rose within him in a voice he had never heard before, a howl from the very belly of his being, a howl that rumbled the river water and shook the misty air of heaven._

_His body convulsed, and his head jerked wildly, until the howling gave way to prayerlike utterances, every word expelled in the breathless surge of confession: "I killed you, I KILLED YOU," then a whispered "forgive me," then, "FORGIVE ME, OH, GOD . . ." and finally, "What have I done . . . WHAT HAVE I DONE? . . ."_

_He cried and cried, until the crying drained him to a shiver. Then he shook silently, swaying back and forth. He was kneeling on a mat before the little dark-haired girl, who played with her pipe-cleaner animal along the bank of the flowing river._

 

With shaking hands, Geoff closed the book and set it down. He looked down at Tuna, who was dozing with her tiny body curled up around his ankle then, and pressed his hands over his face. Finally, he let the images of Michael and the carnage spattered on the football field play in his mind. For the first time in over two weeks, he didn’t push them away.

_I killed you, I KILLED YOU._

“I’m am… _so_ terribly sorry,” Geoff whispered, his eyes tightly shut. “Michael, if you can hear me, I am so sorry to you and your family… I never meant for this to happen…”

_Forgive me._

“I don’t know where you are now, but I do hope very much that you’re-” He let out a shuddering breath. “-that you’re not in pain - oh, please… Michael, I am sorry. You were just a child.”

Geoff thought of Awsten sprinting straight into his arms, thought of Awsten again tiredly melting into him at the group home nearly an hour outside of town, thought of Awsten succumbing to sleep on the sofa to the sounds of a story. He was a child, too, forever scarred. Just like all of the other children that Geoff saw every day. He’d never heard the word ‘therapy’ uttered so many times in his entire life as he had in the prior two weeks alone. There had never been so many students absent, some for days on end. He’d never seen so many tears.

_FORGIVE ME, OH, GOD…_

“Michael, I… I wish we could speak one more time. There is so much that I want to tell you, but mostly I wish I could listen. You were trying to tell me, in your own way, what you were thinking about, and I am truly, truly sorry that I failed to listen to you properly.”

_What have I done…_

“What you did was atrocious. I will not lie to you about that. I don’t pretend to understand it, but… Lucas was incorrect. You did leave the smallest of signals for me; I just couldn’t manage to understand them.” He hesitated, his eyes open then, staring blankly ahead. “I failed you,” he breathed. The terrified, tearstained faces of his seniors flashed into his mind’s eye. “I… oh, god, I failed all of you.” 

_WHAT HAVE I DONE?_

Geoff wept.

 

* * *

 

** Peace and Purpose Home For Young Men  
March 20, 2:16 AM **

He dreamt of a flood. A huge, overwhelming flood that started with the rain outside and morphed into a downpour. It grew and grew until it swallowed first the mailbox and then the van. The house was next on the agenda, although that was taking much longer.

Awsten stood in the kitchen by the window in the side door, watching the water level rise and rise. He stayed there, mesmerized, just gazing out as the window became like a tank in an aquarium, until Mr. W’s voice began calling him. 

“Awsten! Awsten, where are you?”

“I’m down here!” 

“It’s not safe! Come upstairs. Otto is here.” 

Just then, the window Awsten had been looking through cracked. 

"Awsten?"

The lines dividing the panes spread quickly in several different directions, and Awsten leaned closer to watch them.

"Awsten!"

The glass shattered and burst under the pressure of the water. Awsten turned and ran, hoping to stay dry, but the waterfall pouring into the house was too fast. His feet were instantly soaked. The water filled the kitchen, and Awsten was glad to get to the dry stairs. He hurried up them. “Mr. W!” he cried, his gaze sweeping across the landing from left to right.

“In here.” 

Awsten followed the sound of his voice to Lucas’ room. He flung the door open and found Mr. W, Otto, and Mom all sitting in the corner near the closet. He shut the door behind himself and started toward Lucas’ bedroom window to observe the flood, but he was cut off by Otto sharply ordering, “Don’t look outside.” So Awsten turned away.

“Are you alright?” Mr. W wondered, his eyes as soft and concerned as ever.

Awsten nodded. “I’m okay.”

“Come here, baby,” Mom murmured, and Awsten obeyed without a second thought. Otto was leaning against one of her shoulders, so Awsten made a space for himself at the other. Otto reached out a hand, and Awsten grabbed onto it. “My boys,” Mrs. Wood hummed as she stroked their hair. 

The door opened again, and Lucas entered. “The water’s coming in fast,” he told them authoritatively. “We-”

But before he could finish his sentence, Awsten was pulled out of the dream, having been awakened a second time - this time by a noise inside the shared bedroom. His eyes fluttered open, and he watched as Jawn bolted out of bed and rushed into the bathroom. He flipped the light on and stopped short in front of the closest sink.

“Jawn?” Awsten asked groggily, propping himself up on one elbow. 

“My teeth,” Jawn gasped back in response.

Awsten blinked slowly. “What?”

“My teeth, they broke! They broke, and they were coming out… They’re back now.” 

“Oh. Well… it was probably only a dream,” Awsten told him, partly annoyed but mostly just tired. He’d _finally_ gotten some rest.

“They were coming out in my hands. I really thought it was real,” Jawn said in wonder as he stood in front of the mirror. 

“Turn the light off,” Awsten moaned. 

“In a minute.” 

Awsten rolled his eyes and dropped back down onto his pillow.

True to his word, Jawn switched off the light after a moment and came back into the room.

“You okay now?” Awsten asked, still more asleep than awake.

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Can we go back to sleep?”

“Yeah, Awsten,” Jawn sighed softly. “Go back to sleep.”


	18. Memories

** Peace and Purpose Home for Young Men  
March 20, 6:30 AM **

“Good morning, gentlemen! Rise and sh- oof!”

“You’re home!” came a muffled cry.

There were several seconds of quiet, and then Lucas softly said, “Yeah, I’m home.” 

“I thought you were never coming back!”

Lucas didn’t reply. 

Awsten slowly sat up in bed and looked across the landing to see Ashton’s whole body pressed against Lucas’. His arms were wound tightly around Lucas’ stomach, and his face was buried in Lucas’ chest. Lucas looked stressed; he had one hand resting on Ashton’s left shoulder but wasn’t touching him otherwise. Awsten couldn’t help but notice that he wasn’t pushing Ashton off, though.

“I’m back,” Lucas assured. “Everything is fine.”

Jawn entered Awsten’s frame of vision as well, walking out of their shared room and then jogging across the landing to throw his arms around Lucas, too. 

“Gentlemen, I’m fine. My meeting ran late.”

“I missed you,” Jawn told him.

Lucas hummed appreciatively before wriggling out of their grasp. “I missed you both, too. It’s time to get ready for the day now, though, so-”

“I thought I was never gonna see you again,” Ashton interrupted urgently. 

“And that’s something I should have thought about,” Lucas acknowledged. “I’m sorry. But I’m back now.” 

Ashton nodded. “I was worried. I’ve been awake for an hour, but I was too scared to check and see if you were here. Cause you might not have been. But then I heard your alarm, so I’ve been waiting outside your room.” 

Suddenly, it clicked with Awsten why Ashton had been so freaked out the night before. His family had died in a car accident. One day, they just… didn’t come home. 

Zakk’s door opened, and he headed over to the other boys, stretching and yawning like a cartoon character as he walked. “Come on, guys, let’s get a move on.”

“What’s breakfast?” Jawn wondered.

“Toast and strawberries,” Lucas answered. 

Instantly, Jawn pleaded, “Can we have peanut butter?”

“Sure,” Zakk replied as Lucas muttered, “We’ll see.”

Without speaking to anyone, Awsten slipped into the bathroom and mentally prepared to wash his hair with the shampoo that made him queasy.

 

* * *

**Peace and Purpose Home for Young Men**  
**March 20, 7:17AM**

After breakfast and cleanup, Awsten was feeling a little bit better. Getting some sleep had been good for him, and Ashton, whose state of relief had turned to a sort of giddiness, had been goofing around with him while they ate.

With a glance at his watch as the morning meeting wrapped up, Lucas sent the boys into the driveway. “We have plenty of time before Ryan and Brendon get here,” he told them. “You gentlemen can get the basketball from the game room if you like. The real one.”

“Yeah!” Ashton grinned.

“Jackets and shoes, though. All of you.”

The boys rushed upstairs to get their things and then made their way back down. Jawn was first, and he dove into the game room to retrieve the ball. By the time Awsten got outside, Ashton was there, too. Travis joined the group a little later with his shoes sloppily tied. 

“Twelve seconds remain in the final quarter!” Awsten narrated enthusiastically as Ashton took his time dribbling down the makeshift court. “Irwin has the ball! Everything rides on this shot - but _can he make it?”_

Ashton shook his head at Awsten, rolling his eyes while trying unsuccessfully to hide a smile. 

“Ten! Nine! Eight!”

“Shut up,” Ashton muttered.

“Seven! Six!”

“Go, Ash! You can do it!” Travis encouraged, waving his hands high in the air. 

Awsten pulled Mr. W’s sweatshirt closer around himself and bounced over to stand beside Travis, forming a two-man cheering section. “Five… Four… Three… Will Irwin ever take his shot?!”

“I’m waiting for you to be quiet,” Ashton sighed, a lopsided smile on his face.

Awsten grinned back but fell silent. 

Finally, Ashton threw the ball toward the hoop, but he missed miserably.

“He shoots - he scores!” Awsten yelled anyway. He began jumping up and down, which prompted a confused Travis to do the same. “The Rockets win it all! Confetti is coming down! The Toyota Center is going _wild!_ Move over, LeBron James - Ashton Irwin has carried the team to yet another championship title!”

“Go Ashton!” Travis repeated, subscribing to Awsten’s incorrect idea that Ashton had actually made the basket.

Ashton decided to play along, too; he dropped the ball and lifted his fists into the air. “Victory is mine!” 

“Victory is yours!” Awsten agreed. He got down on the ground and started bowing dramatically at Ashton’s feet. “All hail-”

“Okay, okay,” Ashton laughed, reaching down to grab Awsten by the sleeve and pull him back up to his feet. 

“Congratulations,” Awsten smiled.

“Why, thank you.”

He shoved an imaginary microphone into Ashton’s face. “What did coach say to you in the locker room? You were so fired up during the second half.”

“Go, Jawn!” Travis cheered before Ashton could answer, and the other two boys turned their heads to see that Jawn had picked up the forgotten ball during Awsten’s antics. 

Ashton glanced nervously at Awsten, who forced himself to clap a little. “Go, Jawn!” he echoed halfheartedly. 

If Jawn was surprised at Awsten’s words, he didn’t show it. He made his way to the hoop and attempted a lay-up… The ball bounced clumsily off the rim.

Ashton caught the rebound and tossed it back to him. “Here, try again.” 

Jawn smiled tentatively at him. “Thanks.” 

Awsten, Ashton, and even Travis had largely ignored Jawn through breakfast - and the entire day before - so Awsten was okay with him getting some support. But just a little. 

“You know, LeBron never played for Houston,” Ashton mentioned to Awsten as Jawn shot and missed again. “You could have said, like… Jeremy Lin.”

“Who? Oh, wait, the Lin-sanity guy?”

“Uh-huh.”

“He plays for the Rockets?”

“Yeah. Or at least, he did last year. I heard it on the radio. Lucas was listening to some playoff game.”

“Hm. I didn’t know that. But yeah, this is my first day with the reporting job, so.” 

“Oh, I see,” Ashton chuckled.

“Yeah. I’m new. They haven’t given me the updated roster yet.”

“Then you should probably know they have Dwight Howard now, too.”

With a blank look, Awsten stated, “I have no idea who that is.”

Ashton grinned. "Seriously?!"

“Trav, you wanna try?” Jawn offered, and Awsten watched as Jawn tossed him the ball. 

Travis caught it - just barely - and was nothing short of ecstatic at his achievement. 

“Tra-vis! Tra-vis!” Awsten chanted, and the other two boys quickly joined in. “Tra-vis! Tra-vis! Tra-vis! Tra-vis!”

Using his entire body and a strategy Awsten had never seen before, Travis wildly flung the ball toward the hoop. His shot was the definition of an air ball, but again, Awsten acted like he’d made a buzzer-beater. 

“YES!” he yelled. “That’s it! Travis Riddle, basketball superstar!” 

“I did it?!” Travis cried gleefully.

“You did it!” Awsten confirmed, going over to clap him on the back. “That was a great shot. You’ll have to teach me how to do that!”

“You have a turn!” Travis encouraged.

“Only if you show me how to be as good as you.” 

Travis explained a completely different way to throw the ball, and Awsten followed his directions to the best of the ability. Travis laughed happily at Awsten’s terrible attempt. “That’s bad.”

“Thanks,” Awsten deadpanned.

“It’s okay! You just have to try more.” 

“I tried a lot,” Awsten huffed.

“No, try more times.”

“Oh, you mean I have to try _again_.”

Travis nodded. 

“I will. I’m gonna let Ash have another turn right now though, okay?”

“Okay!” 

Awsten tossed the ball to Ashton, and Travis crowed, “Go Ashton! You can do it!” 

This continued for several minutes - with miss after miss - until they decided they were going to split up and play two-on-two. Jawn seemed to think he was the best out of the measly pickings, so he volunteered to take Travis on his team. 

Of course, Travis was thrilled to be specifically chosen. “We’re gonna win!” he proclaimed.

“ _Yeah_ , we are,” Jawn agreed.

The four boys shuffled up and down the width of the driveway, and Awsten quickly realized that Jawn was a ball-hog. Not that it was easy not to ball-hog with so few people playing, but still. It was annoying. 

Right as the game was heating up (or rather, Awsten’s temper was heating up due to Jawn), Travis bailed. 

“No!” Awsten called, because in all honesty, Travis had done more to stop Jawn from scoring than he had to help him. 

“There’s a butterfly!” Travis cried, rushing toward the lawn. “It’s orange!” But before he could get to it, he tripped on one of his badly-tied shoelaces and landed face-down on the concrete. 

Awsten chuckled fondly since he hadn’t fallen too hard. “You good, dude?” 

But Travis wasn’t good. He was quiet for several seconds, startled by what had happened, and then he started to cry.

“Shit,” Jawn muttered. 

Ashton flew to Travis’ side and wrapped an arm around him, helping him to sit up. “Are you okay?” he asked worriedly. “Did you get hurt?” 

Travis let out a loud sob as he tightly clasped his knee. “I fell!”

“I know,” Ashton told him sympathetically. “I saw you.”

Travis nodded, and the pained look on his face combined with his tears had Awsten moving forward and sinking down to the ground in front of him. He pointed towards Travis’ knee. “Does it hurt?” 

“Lots,” Travis responded pathetically as he started to cry harder. 

“Jawn, go get Lucas,” Ashton instructed, but Jawn didn’t move. He stood off to the side watching with the basketball resting against his hip.

“Travis, can we see it?” Awsten inquired. 

Travis shook his head.

“But if we don’t see it, we won’t know what color band-aid to get you,” Ashton invented. 

“Plus,” Awsten coaxed, “you might get to have a bag of ice like me.”

Through his sobs, Travis asked, “Like yesterday? And it was really cold, a-and it turned into water?” 

“Just like that,” Awsten nodded. “But you have to show us first.” 

“Okay,” Travis whispered, and he slowly removed his hands from his knee. 

Ashton gasped, and Awsten paled. Urgently, Ashton repeated, “Jawn, go get Lucas!” 

That time, Jawn obeyed.

To Travis, Ashton directed, “No, no, look at me and Awsten. Don’t look at it; look at us, Travis.” 

He kept talking, but Awsten didn’t hear much after that. Everything sort of seemed to tilt sideways the way it had in Rian’s office after that door had slammed in the hallway. Awsten was lost in a fog. He could hear people talking to him and feel hands pushing at his wrists, but nothing was making it through his haze. At least, not until Lucas firmly said, “Awsten, _stop.”_

Awsten blinked and looked up, slightly dazed. 

“You can’t do that; we can’t touch other people’s fluids. I need you to go to the sink and wash your hands. And _don’t_ touch anything.” 

“My hands?” Awsten echoed. 

“Yes. Your hands.” Lucas leaned a little lower, suddenly slowing and studying Awsten’s expression. “Hey. Are you okay?” 

Awsten looked down and was horrified to see his palms and fingers coated in blood. His mouth gaped open, and his chest tightened. “No,” he whispered, but he wasn’t answering Lucas’ question. “No, no, he said it was over, he said-”

“Awsten, everything is okay,” Lucas said evenly. “Travis fell a minute ago. Do you remember that?”

“Y-yeah…”

“He got hurt, and you got some blood on yourself. That’s all. We’ll talk about it more in a minute, but right now, I need you to go in and-”

Just then, Zakk came outside with a First Aid kit tucked under his elbow, pulling on a pair of purple gloves. 

Lucas sighed in relief. 

“Aw, dude,” Zakk said sadly as he saw Travis’ tearstained face and ruined knee. 

“Come on, Awsten,” Lucas murmured. “Let’s go clean up.” 

Awsten wanted to speak, but he didn’t have any words to say. He was aware that he kept starting sentences and not finishing them as Lucas helped him to his feet, walked him in the door, and led him over to the kitchen sink. Awsten reached toward the handle that would turn on the cold water, but Lucas leaned across him before he could get to it. 

“Wait, don’t touch it. Here.” Lucas ran the warm water instead and pumped three bursts of foamy, lemon soap into Awsten’s crimson palms. Awsten realized then that Lucas had purple gloves on, too. 

“Off, I want it off,” Awsten muttered as he started to wash his hands. 

Lucas’ reply was gentle. “You’re getting it off.”

“Off,” he whispered again, trembling a little in his desperation. “Lucas, help.”

“Shh, it’s okay. You’re getting it off.”

A whimper burst from Awsten as he scrubbed his fingers together. Travis’ blood was slimy and runny and cold. “Off, I want it off, I want it off,” he pleaded frantically, his voice getting louder. “Get it off! I don’t want it!”

“Shh, here,” Lucas murmured, giving him a fresh round of soap before reaching in with his own gloved hands to help him; Awsten was so shaky and panicked that he wasn’t very effective on his own. “Breathe...”

“I’m breathing!” he snapped. “I just want it off!”

Lucas didn’t respond. 

“It’s like before,” Awsten exhaled as Lucas’s fingers brushed soap and water over his skin. It was Awsten's form of an apology - an explanation to help the freak-out make sense. “It’s like before. They took a million pictures of me.” He stopped trying to help and instead closed his eyes and tipped his head back, letting Lucas take care of the rest of the blood. The water streaming down from the faucet had started to steam, started to hurt his hands a little, but he didn’t care. 

“Who took pictures of you?” Lucas asked conversationally.

“The cops.”

“Why?”

“My hands, they took pictures of my hands,” he said. “They looked like this. All… covered in blood. It was all over my hair, and my clothes, and my face. But my hands were the worst. And they didn’t let me wash them until we got to the police station, and it was almost an hour. That’s what my mom said. Almost an hour before they let me wash my hands. It was all dry and dark and sticky, and there were black globs of it stuck to me, and it felt weird to bend my fingers. It didn’t come all the way out from under my nails until the next afternoon.” 

“I’m glad you didn’t have to wait that long today,” Lucas hummed. He shut the hot water off and cranked the cold water on as high as it would go, and Awsten winced at the sudden icy feeling. 

And then the world tilted again. 

Awsten had checked out for such a short time that Lucas didn’t even seem to notice anything had happened. But Awsten had gone from panicked to numb. 

“I just remembered something,” he said, and his voice sounded empty and far away, like he was in a dream.

Lucas stilled and looked at him. “What?” 

The water suddenly seemed overwhelmingly loud. 

Awsten shook his head. He thought he hadn’t forgotten. He thought he hadn’t forgotten _anything_ from that morning. How could he have? But yeah… there was one thing. Awsten felt sick to his stomach. “I need to sit down,” he said quietly. 

“Okay. Let me grab a towel first.” 

Awsten dried his hands, and then the pair settled on opposite ends of the dark blue couch, just like they had that first day. Awsten kept scraping his palms on the tops of his jeans, trying to get any blood that might have still remained off of his skin.

“You’re all clean,” Lucas promised.

“Yeah.” His voice came out slightly too loud. 

“Will you tell me what you remembered?”

Awsten shook his head.

“Hmm. Why not?”

“I don’t want to tell anyone,” came Awsten’s tight reply. 

“Why?”

“I just don’t!” he spat.

Lucas had a thoughtful look on his face. “What feeling would you have if you told someone? Would you feel better? Or would you feel… I don’t know. Sad, or embarrassed, or-?”

“Yeah.”

“Which?”

“Embarrassed. Both, I guess.”

“Any other ones?”

“Mad. And grossed out.” He shook his hands a little, trying to clear the feeling off of them. “I hate this. I want to see Otto.” His eyes narrowed. “You took Otto away.”

Lucas watched him, analyzing. 

Awsten looked away with a scowl on his lips. This was shaping up to be a really sucky day.

“Awsten, right now you seem like you’re going a hundred miles a minute.” 

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Probably cause I am.” 

“Why?”

“I don’t know!” he exploded. “Why do you keep asking me all these fucking questions? I’m so tired of this!” 

“Take a deep breath-”

“I’m fucking breathing!” he cried, standing up and flinging his arms out to the sides. “What the hell does that even mean, take a breath? It’s not like I’m going around holding my breath all the time!” 

“It’s a coping skill.”

“ _Fuck_ coping skills!” 

“Awsten.”

He collapsed back down onto the couch with his arms crossed again.

Lucas let several seconds of quiet pass before he resumed speaking. “How were you feeling before Travis fell?”

“Fine.” 

Lucas nodded thoughtfully. “And after?”

“It was okay then, too,” Awsten grumbled. “I wanted to help him feel better. I was fine until I saw he was bleeding.”

“And then what?” 

“I don’t know.”

“Were you feeling anxious?”

“No, I mean I literally don’t know,” Awsten answered shortly. “I don’t really remember anything.” 

That had Lucas’ attention. “What was that like? Can you describe it?”

“Like I was…” He struggled for several moments. “I guess the closest thing I can think of," he finally said, "is like if you walked away from a TV while it was still playing, and then you were out of the room and not really paying attention to it. Like, you know stuff is happening on the screen but you can’t see it, and you can still kind of hear it, but just a little, so you don’t know what’s going on.”

“Okay. That’s normal for someone who’s been through what you’ve been through,” Lucas assured. “It’s called dissociation.”

“It’s happened before,” Awsten confessed. “Just… just once. But then it happened again when I remembered tr- uh, when I remembered.” 

“At the sink?”

“Uh-huh.”

“And what about the other time? When was that?” 

“Um, at therapy the first time. A door closed really loud down the hall from where I was, and Rian saw the whole thing. He said I had an ‘anxiety attack,’” he noted, lifting his fingers to make quotation marks. 

“The whole thing… What did he see?” 

“I, like, couldn’t-” He cut himself off and then sheepishly said, “Oh. Um, I couldn’t breathe.” He looked down at his lap in sadness. “I’m sorry I keep getting so mad. I know you’re trying to help.” Then the sadness morphed into anger. “I hate that I’m like this. I promise I didn’t use to be this way.” 

“Thank you. I appreciate your apology. And Awsten, you’ve been through a lot. It’s okay if your emotions are all over the place for a while.”

“It’s been two weeks,” he muttered under his breath. 

Lucas nodded knowingly. “And that probably feels like forever.”

Awsten nodded back.

“But in the grand scheme of things, it’s barely any time. Someday, it will be six months ago. And someday after that, it will be a year. And then seven years. And then thirty. Two weeks is… it’s some of the hardest parts of recovering. But Awsten, I don’t want you to feel like you have to be ‘fixed’ by a certain date or like there’s a time limit on you being allowed to struggle with your emotions.” 

“I thought it would just be a couple days,” he admitted softly. “Like, I guess I was kind of expecting that I’d be freaked out and sad for like, three or four days. Maybe five. So I was letting myself do stupid shit, like - like I’d go in Otto’s parents room during the day and just like, lay in their bed. And they’d sit with me, and we’d all just be there. I didn’t talk. I didn’t sleep. I didn’t do _anything_. Mom would try to get me to eat, but I wouldn’t do that either. She kept trying, though.”

He didn’t say anything after that, and Lucas was quiet, too. Awsten stared blankly at the wall and thought about the way Otto’s mom would spend hours running her fingers through his hair, and the way, every once in a while, Otto’s dad would quietly ask Awsten if he was okay and whether he needed anything. And then he thought about the way Otto had said, with more pent-up bitterness than Awsten had ever heard, _You spend more time with my parents than you do with me,_ and the way Awsten had so desperately wanted to reply, _But I was trying to protect you from everything going on inside my head._

“Lucas,” Awsten said softly.

“Yes?”

“I can talk to you about bad things, right?”

“You can tell me anything.”

“Okay,” Awsten whispered. “Um, so… When I was-”

The kitchen door banged open, and Brendon’s loud voice called out a jolly hello. 

“Never mind,” Awsten said quickly, getting to his feet.

“No, Awsten, I want to hear it,” Lucas insisted, sitting up straighter but not standing. 

Awsten shook his head.

“Let’s move to the office. I really want to hear what you were going to tell me.” 

“I have to go to school.” 

“School can wait.” 

Awsten shook his head again. “No, it’s fine. It’s fine, um… M-maybe later?” He suddenly felt an unexplainable, undeniable urge to cry. 

“Awsten-”

“It’s stupid,” he protested, his eyes stinging and his voice thick with unshed tears. Fuck. Awsten quickly turned away, but Lucas had to have seen - there was no way he couldn’t have noticed.

“It’s not stupid.”

“No, um, I have to-” He left his sentence unfinished, rushed across the house, and locked himself in the bathroom. 

“Awsten,” Lucas said from the other side of the door mere seconds later, “please talk to me.”

“No.” He stared at the sink and pointedly avoided looking up at mirror so he wouldn’t have to see his pathetic reflection. The last thing he needed was to catch a glimpse of his red, watery eyes. 

“We can go in the office,” he offered again, "or we can even talk right here, just like this."

“Go away.”

“I really want to hear what you were going to tell me.”

“Go _away!_ ” Awsten yelled, impulsively shoving everything from the counter - hand soap, a tube of toothpaste, a little digital clock, a cup with two toothbrushes - onto the tile floor. He folded forward and pressed his forehead into his hands, not noticing right away that he was rocking back and forth. “Go away, go away, go away!”

“Do you remember what I told you about anger?” 

“No,” he lied. 

“I think you do,” Lucas said easily. “And I’m going to be right here when you’re ready to come out. I’ll let Zakk know he can take Jawn to group today, and I’ll just wait right here.” 

“Then I’ll _never_ come out.”

“Okay.” 

“Fine!” 

“Fine,” Lucas calmly echoed. 

Awsten suddenly felt like a little kid again. He was taken right back to elementary school, to the times he found himself in a battle with one of his teachers. The difference was, the teachers never had the time or the focus to do anything but let him win. They had a ton of kids to work with, not just Awsten. But Lucas… Lucas might actually be able to pull this off. 

After a few minutes, the light chatter in the kitchen moved toward the front of the house and then quieted, and a door closed. Awsten heard Zakk come over, and he heard the edges of Lucas whispering to him but none of the actual words he was saying. 

“Awsten?” Zakk called. “Dude, you wanna come out? You’re not in trouble or anything.” 

As if Awsten would reward that with a response. 

“Okay, well… I’m running to the grocery store, but I’ll be back in a little bit. I’ll see you later - I mean, I _hope_ I will. If you ever decide to come back to us, that is.” 

Lucas and Zakk said goodbye to each other, and Lucas reminded Zakk not to forget the list again, and they both chuckled. Then the kitchen door opened and closed, and the engine of the van turned over. 

Awsten heard Lucas sit down on the hardwood with his back to the bathroom wall. 

Why…

Why did that make him feel good?

The air was quiet and still. Ever so slowly, he began to calm down.

He waited several minutes, hidden behind one side of the door while Lucas sat near the other. Awsten wondered whether he’d been locked in the bathroom for ten minutes or fifteen. It had to have been at least ten. But he wasn’t sure if he’d reached fifteen yet. 

Slowly, Awsten got to his feet, trying not to be heard. The clock was still working, Awsten realized, but he hadn’t looked at it before he flung his arm across the counter, so it didn’t tell him much. He replaced the soap and put the toothbrush cup in its place next to the sink, but he kept the toothbrushes - one bright green and the other a deep blue - in his fist.  He rested his forehead against the door. “Lucas,” he murmured.

“Yes.”

“I’m ready to come out now.” 

“I’m glad to hear that. I didn’t really want you to stay in there forever.” 

Awsten listened for Lucas to stand up, but the sound never came, so he sank back onto the ground. Then he reached up to unlock the door...

It wasn’t locked. 

There were no locks in the house. The one Awsten thought he’d switched when he stormed in didn’t even work. Lucas could have come in at any point, but he didn’t. He’d waited for Awsten to come out. 

Awsten didn’t know what to do with that knowledge.

Shamefully, Awsten reached up and turned the knob. He pulled the door open just a few inches. “Here,” he said quietly, holding the toothbrushes through the crack. 

“What’s this?”

“I threw everything, and they fell on the floor.” 

“Oh.” Lucas took them. 

“I cleaned everything else up.” 

“Thank you.” 

He opened the door enough so that Lucas could see him, but his eyes stayed focused on the floor as he said, “I’m really sorry.”

“Thank you,” Lucas repeated. “I accept your apology.” 

Awsten nodded at the ground. 

“Do you still want to talk? Or would you rather go to school?”

“No, I wanna go to school.” 

Lucas nodded. “Okay. If you change your mind, you can come get me whenever. I’ll be down here somewhere.”

“Okay,” Awsten whispered. 

Lucas stood, and Awsten followed suit. Lucas didn’t follow him as he headed toward the front of the house.

“Hi! Good morning, sweet angel!” Brendon’s welcoming smile turned mischievous when Awsten had taken his seat. “I got your math test back…”

Halfheartedly, Awsten raised one eyebrow. Brendon slid the paper to him, and Awsten barely took one look at it before his lips broke into a small smile. “I passed.”

“You did more than pass, Awsten!” Brendon pointed at the number on the page. A big 72 was circled in the top corner with a messy red smiley face at its side. 

“Awsten, look!” Travis cried, swinging a little bag of ice in the air. 

“Cool,” Awsten replied softly, the smile fading a little. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Zakk got me a pink band-aid!” 

“He had a big fall,” Brendon told Awsten, his eyes very serious.

“Yeah, I was there,” Awsten murmured. He leaned forward in his chair and reached for a pencil. “Um, what do I have to do today?”

 

* * *

 

** Peace and Purpose Home for Young Men  
March 20, 12:58 PM **

“Yoo-hoo!” Miley called, waving through the kitchen window. 

Zakk raised his hand in response and headed over to open the door. “Hey!” 

“Hey,” she smiled. The smile got bigger as Travis bounded up to her for a hug. “Hi, Travis!” 

“Hi!” 

“I brought something special today,” she told Travis conspiratorially. “I think you’re really gonna like it.”

“Is it paint?” he asked hopefully.

“Nooooo…”

“Ooh, ooh, is it colored pencils?”

“Noooope! Something new.”

“Something new?” he echoed in wonder.

“Yes. Something new. Something… small.”

“Something small?”

“Uh-huh!” Then, to Zakk, she said, “Did Lucas tell you what’s in my special, magical box?”

Travis’ eyes grew huge.

“He did,” Zakk confirmed.

“Is it okay if we go sit on the floor by the couches?” 

“Sounds good to me.”

“I’m gonna lay some newspaper down so we can hopefully catch anything that tries to get away from us.” 

“Is it alive?” Jawn asked, striding into the room.

“No,” Miley laughed. 

“Oh. You said it might get away, so…”

“Well, it might,” she said nonchalantly, shrugging one shoulder. 

Awsten watched her as she walked toward the couches, a giant box balanced on her hip. He tried to peer inside, but although it was clear, it was a frosty clear. It was too hard to see through.

“Hi, Awsten!” Miley chirped when she saw him looking. “Trying to sneak a peek?”

He quickly looked away.

“It’s okay! Come here. I’ll show you what I have.” 

Hesitantly, he stepped forward. The other boys followed, and Ashton came hurrying down the stairs with a “Sorry! I wanted to change my shirt before we started.” 

“There won’t be a mess today,” Miley assured him. 

“Oh.”

“Here, come see!” 

Awsten and Jawn leaned toward the box at the same time, but they both stopped short and quickly straightened back up as they realized what was happening. Awsten narrowed his eyes at Jawn, took a step forward, and leaned down again. This time he was able to see that the box was divided into several tiny compartments, each filled with a different type of bead. They were different sizes, different textures, different colors, different shapes… Yeah. Miley was right - Travis would definitely enjoy these.

“What are we doing with them?” Ashton inquired as he peered in from the side.

“I have stuff for bracelets and necklaces.”

“Just bracelets,” Lucas noted as he came down the stairs. “Hey.”

“Hey,” she smiled. “Just bracelets, then. That’s fine with me!”

It got a bit crazy for a moment as Lucas and Miley tried to quickly pass out thread while keeping Travis in check with the beads (it turned out that Miley’s box was hiding two more more layers of bead trays, which had Travis over the moon), but once things calmed down, Lucas actually settled onto the floor with the boys and got some thread of his own. Zakk came to join them a few minutes later, his phone [playing Earth, Wind & Fire](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=god7hAPv8f0). The only downside was that Lucas had Zakk place himself so that Jawn and Awsten had to sit next to one another.

Awsten noticed Travis stringing a mishmash of random beads onto his bracelet - just whatever his fingers came into contact with first. He knew that Travis would be very proud of his creation, but Awsten wanted him to have something better than that. He found himself wondering whether or not Travis had ever actually owned a real bracelet before. Awsten remembered the friendship bracelet craze when he’d been in elementary school, so he knew he’d had a couple to call his own. But Travis might not have had a nice one, so Awsten decided that he was going to take it upon himself to make him one. 

The song Zakk’s phone was playing changed to [something much more indie](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NVqHcR6T6KQ), and Lucas was tying the knot on his own bracelet when the office phone rang. 

“I can get it,” Zakk offered, but Lucas was already standing up, shaking his head. 

“No, it’s okay. I got it.” He kept messing with the tails of the bracelet in his hands as he walked a few steps over into the office and closed the door behind himself.

“That’s stupid. It’s girly,” Jawn muttered to Awsten a few minutes later, staring down at the pattern of small beads on Awsten’s thread.

“They're all girly. But it's for Travis."

“It’s still stupid.”

Awsten rolled his eyes, not bothered. He knew Jawn was just trying to start something. Besides, seeing the look on Travis’ face later as Awsten held out the sparkly pink and purple jewelry and sheepishly told him, “I made you this,” was so much better than any joy Awsten could have found from wasting time making a bracelet for himself. 

“You made it for me?” Travis echoed, sounding unsure of whether to believe it. "It's mine?"

“Yeah. The pink is for you, and the purple is for me.”  


“Cause we’re friends!” Travis said happily.

“Exactly.” 

He beamed. 

“Trav, what do you tell Awsten?” Zakk asked. 

“Thank you!” he squeaked. He shoved his wrist out, bouncing a little. “Put it on, put it on!” 

Awsten smiled and obeyed. Just as he was starting to loop the ends into a knot, the door to the office flung open, and Lucas rushed out of it. He’d been gone for so long that Awsten had completely forgotten he was even in there.

“I’ll text you,” Lucas hurriedly noted to Zakk, dashing to the front of the house as he finger-combed his hair into a messier version of its usual bun. He stopped briefly in the kitchen to swipe his keys from the counter and snag his leather jacket off of its peg, and then he exited the house in a whirlwind. In his haste, he closed the door so abruptly that it rattled against the frame. 

Everybody, Miley included, stared after him. 

An engine turned over outside, but it was the small, green car that backed down the driveway, not the van. It peeled down the street with a squeal of the tires. And then Lucas was gone. 

Everyone was silent, unsure of what to say.

“Whoa,” Jawn finally exhaled. He turned to Zakk. “What the heck happened?”

Zakk shook his head. “I have no idea. But I’m sure he’ll explain soon.” He reached out to his phone and pressed the button to skip ahead to [the next song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RXuTcr0dqWc). Then he sat back and advised, “Go ahead and finish up what you’re working on, guys. We’ve only got a few minutes left before Miley needs to go and we start quiet time.” 

“Does that mean you’re putting the music away?” Ashton asked sadly.

“In a little bit.”

Awsten frowned. 

 

* * *

  
**Peace and Purpose Home for Young Men - Ashton and Travis' Room**  
**March 20, 3:22 PM**

Quiet time that day turned out to be Awsten and Ashton sitting across from each other on Ashton’s bedroom floor and mindlessly playing game after game after game after game of tic-tac-toe. Finally, Awsten couldn’t stand it anymore. He grabbed the pencil they were passing back and forth out of Ashton’s hand and scribbled, “HANGMAN?” 

Ashton looked up at him and grinned.

Awsten was part of the way through guessing something that looked like _ _ R A _ _ _ R R _ when the phone started ringing again downstairs. 

“Awsten, that’s for you!” Zakk called from his room.

Awsten and Ashton traded a glance, and then Awsten called back, “What?”

“It’s for you. Go answer. Quick, before it stops ringing.”

He traveled lightly down the steps and jogged to the office, wondering who would be calling him. He closed the door, picked up the phone, and asked, “Hello?”

“Hey.” 

“Hello?” he repeated, positive that he must have imagined the voice coming through the receiver.

“It’s me.”

“Otto?!”

“Yeah.”

Awsten pressed the phone harder to his ear in a desperate attempt to feel nearer to his best friend. “What the hell are you doing? I’m not supposed to see you.”

“Well, we’re not looking at each other, are we?” Otto replied, and Awsten could hear the strained smile in his voice.

“No, yeah, you’re right. I - I can’t believe you called! I’m so-”

“Mom said you punched your roommate?” Otto demanded.

Awsten sighed quietly and reached out to fiddle with the cord. It seemed like Otto wasn’t beating around the bush that day. 

“What happened?” 

“You remember Travis?”

“Yeah?”

“And you know how he’s special?”

“Yeah…?”

“Jawn was being a dick to him. To all of us, but like. He stole a razor blade overnight, and the next morning, we all got in trouble for it because he wouldn’t admit it was him. So all day, we were all in trouble, and Travis didn’t understand it. He kept asking what he did wrong. But he didn’t do anything wrong. And then we found out it was Jawn. He let us all be in trouble all day, including Travis. So I gave him a piece of my mind.”

Otto was silent. 

“He’s done a ton of shit, to the other guys _and_ to me,” Awsten added defensively. “He really did deserve it. But I don’t think I would have done it if I knew this was what was going to happen.”

“You don’t _think_ you would have d-” Otto repeated in disbelief. “Awsten, I waited all week to see you! Do you know what that’s like?”

“Yeah, I do,” he replied frankly. 

“No! Because I didn’t even know anything had happened, and now I don’t even get the one thing I’ve been waiting for!”

Awsten hung his head. “I’m really sorry.” 

“Good! I hope you are! This is the worst day ever!” 

“Otto-”

“I left school for you!” he cried, and Awsten’s guilt grew at the tears he could hear in Otto’s voice. “And Mom found out, and she wouldn’t even let me try to see you! But I tried anyway, and now…”

“What? Where are you?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Otto snapped, sniffling a little. “I just. _Dammit_. I don’t want to yell at you. I told myself I wouldn’t.” He huffed in frustration. “I’m sorry. I really am, I’m just...”

“No, you should be pissed,” Awsten told him honestly.

“No, I shouldn’t.”

“Yeah, you should. _I_ fucked up. Not you. You don’t deserve this, and I’m sorry.” 

“Yeah,” Otto agreed softly. 

The line was quiet for a moment. 

“Um, so how’s… how are you, anyway?” Otto murmured. 

Awsten scoffed. “I’m fine, Otto. Shut the fuck up.”

“Well, I’m sorry I don’t know what to say to you right now.” 

“Not _that_. Come on. Who are you, Mr. W?” Awsten joked, a small smile making its way onto his face. “‘How are you?’ Come on. That’s grown-up shit.”

“He wasn’t at school today,” Otto said quietly. 

“Who, Mr. W?”

“Uh-huh.”

Awsten’s eyebrows rose in curiosity. “Oh. Uh, why?” 

“I don’t know,” Otto gravely answered. “Nobody heard anything. Apparently he ran his club after school yesterday and seemed fine, but then he just never showed up this morning. Alex said they asked the sub if he was sick or something, and he said she didn’t say.” 

“Weird.” 

“Yeah.” 

A beat passed, and then Awsten stuttered out, “Um… I’m… Is…?”

“What?”

Awsten swallowed. “Um, does Mom hate me?” 

“No. Dude, no way.”

“Really?” Awsten breathed.

“Yeah. She’s a little upset about all of it, but she doesn’t hate you. Of course not.” Otto finally started to smile. “You’re basically her other kid at this point. She doesn’t hate you.”

Awsten squeezed his eyes closed. “Okay, good. Um, cool.”

Otto chuckled sadly. 

They talked about Mom and Dad and school and Alex for another few minutes, and then Otto said regretfully, “I have to go in a second.”

“What?! No!” 

“Yeah. We only get ten minutes, so.” 

“What? No one’s monitoring me,” Awsten told him. “Zakk doesn’t care, and Lucas isn’t even here. I’ll stay as long as you want. I’ll stay til someone tells me to get off.”

“One more minute, and then I have to go.”

“What? No! I don’t want you to hang up, Otto, please!”

“I know. Me, either.”

“Please, I… I miss you so much.”

“I miss you, too.” Otto paused for a second. “Fuck,” he muttered, and then Awsten heard him start to cry again. 

“No, don’t do that,” Awsten begged. “You’re gonna make me cry, too.”

“I'm sorry, I just really miss you,” he said tearfully. “I wish you were here. There’s so much shit I need to tell you.”

“Like what?”

“Like… you really wanna know?”

“Of course.”

“Um, well, first off, Mom and Dad put me in therapy, too.”

“What?” Awsten asked incredulously.

“Yeah. I’m… I’m kinda doing really bad,” Otto admitted with a small sniff.

“Fuck, Otto. What’s going on?”

“Nothing, um. I’m… okay.”

“You’re doing really bad, but you’re okay?” Awsten echoed.

Ottolaughed tiredly. “I’ll be fine. I don’t want you to worry, I just…” 

“What’s going on? Tell me,” Awsten urged. “Please. You know I’m always here for you.”

“Yeah, but there’s not time.”

“Please.”

“If you punch somebody else, I’m gonna fucking kill you,” Otto warned, moving on. “Do you hear me?”

“I won’t. I promise.”

“You better not. I can’t take - I really don’t want to go another week without you. I don’t care how stupid it sounds.” 

“I know,” Awsten nodded.

“School sucks so much without you. Seriously.”

“I know,” Awsten repeated, this time softer.

“Awsten, I have to go. I’m really sorry, I’m…” He sobbed quietly. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.”

“I hate that this happened.”

“Me, too. I’m so sorry, Otto. I won't do it again. But don’t hang up,” he pleaded. “I can stay. We can - we can talk more. I want to hear about what’s going on with y-” 

“No, we can’t. I’m sorry. I love you.”

“Otto, wait- I'll see you on Sunday, though, right? That's the next visiting day. You'll come Sunday?”

Otto made a pained sound. "No, I already asked. My parents are making me go to this stupid thing that I don't even care about anymore."

"You can't get out of it?" Awsten pleaded.

"No, we've been planing it for weeks. I'm so sorry; I asked a million times, but even Mom said no," he explained with another sob.  “I have to go. I love you. Bye, Aws.”

And then the line went dead. Awsten stared confusedly down at the phone and then sat down in the desk chair, holding the angrily buzzing receiver in his hand. That’s where Zakk found him when he knocked a few minutes later. Awsten flinched in surprise. 

“You okay in here?” Zakk asked, opening the door enough to poke his head inside.

Awsten stared at him for a moment and then forced himself to nod and put the phone back where it belonged. “How did you-”

“Why don’t you go get your dirty clothes and throw them in the washer?” he suggested. “And then Ash is waiting on you upstairs. Said you guys were playing Hangman?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“You wanna get a bigger game going downstairs? I think Jawn’s trying to nap, but Trav would probably like to play. I’ll let you guys use the white board in the school room.”

Awsten gave him half of a smile. “Okay. Sure.”

Zakk started to leave, but Awsten called after him.

“Wait!”

He turned back. “Yeah?”

“You should play, too.”

Zakk grinned. “Okay. Hey, thanks, dude.” He leaned back into the room and held out his fist for Awsten to bump.

Thursday’s quiet time got a lot less quiet after that; the silent atmosphere had transformed into something that sounded like a giggly alphabet convention. Since Zakk was there, Awsten no longer felt comfortable writing blanks out that would later spell ‘dick’ or anything along those lines, but it was actually more fun with more people. 

At one point, Travis earned a turn to be It, but halfway through, he gave up, declaring that he didn’t like the job. Awsten was pretty sure he just didn’t fully understand how being It actually worked. He just liked yelling out random letters. 

When it came time for Awsten leave the room and move his little load of clothes from the washer to the dryer, Ashton suddenly got an excited look about him.

“What?” Awsten asked cautiously.

“Oh, nothing,” Ashton grinned. 

When Awsten came back, the other three had teamed up to come up with something for him to guess. Everyone knew the answer except for him, so he stood there and made a show of guessing. He tapped his finger against his chin and stared at the six dashes drawn across the board.  “T.” 

“Nope.” Ashton drew a head at the top of the gallows.

“E?”

“Yes!” Travis cried.

“Don’t tell him the word,” Ashton reminded as he put an E in the last spot.

“I won’t!”

“Hmm,” Awsten hummed.

 

_ _ _ _ _ E

 

“A?”

“No,” Zakk smiled, and Ashton gave the head a body.

“S?”

“Uh-uh.”

One arm.

“R?”

Ashton added an R in the third space.

 

_ _ R _ _ E

 

Awsten tilted his head and studied the letters. “Hmm…” he muttered again. “I?”

“No.”

The little figure got a second arm. 

_Shit,_ Awsten whispered in his head. Then, out loud, he guessed, “L?”

“Yes!” 

 

_ _ R _ L E

 

“Um… B?”

“Nope,” Zakk replied as they watched Ashton give the hanging man a leg. “What about a vowel?”

Awsten paused and thought. He had an E on the board, and he’d already guessed A and I… He stared at the letters for a minute.

“A strange vowel,” Zakk prompted.

“Um…”

Ashton stage-whispered, “What does ‘um’ start with?”

“U?” Awsten inquired hesitantly.

“Yes!” all three of them cried. 

 

_ U R _ L E

 

Awsten smiled. “P! Purple!”

Ashton filled in the last two blanks, and then everyone clapped. 

“Yay, Awsten!” Travis cheered. “You did it!” 

Awsten gave a bow. 

“We picked it cause’a your hair,” Travis explained. 

“I know,” Awsten chuckled, ruffling his hand through it. 

Lucas came in just as the clapping was dying down. First, he shushed them sternly, and then he said in annoyance to Zakk, “Can I talk to you out here, please?”

The three boys in the room all looked around nervously at each other.

Lucas came back in alone a moment later and said to the three boys, “Awsten and Jawn are making dinner by themselves tonight. Ashton, Travis, you can keep playing. But I expect quiet time to stay quiet. Does everyone understand?”

They nodded. 

Awsten followed Lucas out the door to the kitchen just as a bleary-eyed Jawn was coming down the stairs wearing pajama pants and the same t-shirt he’d had on earlier.

Lucas held up one piece of paper. “This is the dinner plan. The jobs aren’t divided, so you two will need to work them out yourselves.”

Jawn and Awsten glared at each other.

“I expect you both to be on your best behavior,” Lucas told them pointedly. “If there are any issues, I _will_ know, and there _will_ be consequences. Do you understand?”

“Yeah,” Jawn replied as Awsten murmured, “Yes, sir.” 

Lucas nodded. “Good. Go ahead and get started. The meat is in the crisper.”

Both boys grabbed for the paper, but Jawn got ahold of it first and headed into the kitchen with Awsten barely two steps behind him.

“Spaghetti,” Jawn said simply, smoothly turning away when Awsten tried to peer over his shoulder at the recipe. “That’s easy. Go get a pot.”

“Why do _I_ have to get the pot?” Awsten asked. He crossed his arms over his chest.

Jawn rolled his eyes. “Just do it.”

Awsten rolled his eyes right back but opened the low cabinet that contained all the pots and pans. Jawn flipped the hot water on and went to go retrieve the box of noodles.

“Wait, shit!” Jawn hissed when the water was almost to a full boil. “We did it wrong?”

“How did we do it wrong?” Awsten asked flatly. “It’s pasta.”

“It’s not just spaghetti! It’s spaghetti _and_ _meatballs._ ”

“Okay…?” Awsten cracked several of the spaghetti noodles in half like Mrs. Wood always did, set them down on the counter, and then picked up some more to repeat the action.

“Wait, what are you doing?” Jawn demanded.

“Breaking it.”

“What for?”

“Cause that way it’s not so long, and you don’t have to twirl it so much. It’s what my mom does.”

“ _My_ mom doesn’t do that.” 

“Well, mine does.”

“But mine doesn’t.”

Awsten shrugged one shoulder and let the second round of spaghetti splinter into two pieces. 

“Stop!” Jawn cried.

“Why?” Awsten asked evenly, setting the halves down and picking up the last handful.

“Because I don’t want you to.”

“It’s easier for everyone.”

“No, it’s not!”

Awsten stared right at Jawn as he broke the remaining pasta.

Jawn sighed loudly. “I really don’t like you.”

“I really don’t care.”

“Whatever.” He started to walk away but then said, “Wait, though. We did it wrong. Don’t put the noodles in yet.” 

“Why?”

“Look,” Jawn said, picking up the paper and pointing. “We have to do the meatballs first. That’s why Lucas had us come in here so early, cause we have to make them in the oven.” He shook his head. “Shit, we didn’t preheat it. Why didn’t you say something?”

“ _You_ had the paper,” Awsten accused. “How could I have said anything? You wouldn’t even let me look at it.”

“Because I don’t trust you.”

“ _You_ don’t trust _me_?” Awsten asked incredulously. 

“You punched me yesterday, in case you forgot,” came Jawn’s dry reply.

“Because you-”

“Okay, whatever. We have to stop fighting or this is never gonna get done,” Jawn sighed. 

Awsten nodded. “It doesn’t matter if you trust me or not. We’re making dinner; I’m not trying to pull you over the edge of a cliff. It’s really not that big of a deal. And besides, I have to eat it, too. I'm not trying to fuck it up.” 

“Yeah. Can we just finish this? We’re wasting time.” 

Awsten went over to the oven. “How many degrees?”

“Four hundred.”

“Kay.” Awsten set the temperature and then floated back over to the counter where Jawn had just brought the meat from the fridge. “Ugh,” Awsten commented, wrinkling his nose. “What is that?”

“Ground beef. Go get a baking sheet. Uh, please.”

Awsten did. 

“And then grease it.”

“Can I just use the Pam?”

“Yeah. That’s grease, dipshit.”

“Fuck you,” Awsten replied, but there was no venom in his voice. He sprayed the tray generously and then returned the aerosol to the pantry. “Now what?”

“Um…” Jawn peeked down at the recipe. “Now go get the milk and the parmesan cheese out of the fridge, and measure it. I’ll get the rest of the stuff out of the pantry.” 

Jawn busied himself dumping little quantities of spices into a big bowl: basil, salt, garlic, red pepper, and then came the bread crumbs and some kind of sauce Awsten had never heard of. Jawn followed that with the cheese and milk.

“Okay,” Jawn said. “Now go get the meat.” He sloshed the bowl around in an attempt to stir everything together but ended up going to get a whisk after a moment. 

Awsten dropped the slab of raw beef on the counter. “Here.” 

“Mix that,” Jawn ordered, pointing to the meat, “in with that.” He pointed to the gross bowl of ingredients. 

“What?”

“Yeah, go ahead.” 

“No.”

“I did that part. Now you do this part.” 

Awsten stared down at the bright red meat. “I’m not touching that.”

“Well, I’m not touching it, either. And I already did the first part.” 

Awsten’s brain flipped through several things he could say to casually explain his discomfort without seeming like a wimp. He was about to ask, _Remember when I told you what happened at my school?_ when Lucas strode in. 

“How’s it going, gentlemen?”

“Um, okay,” Jawn said. “Awsten was about to put the meat in the bowl.”

“Oh, I see,” Lucas nodded. “Awsten?”

Awsten swallowed and stepped forward, unwrapping the package. 

“Jawn, while he does that, you need to get out the ingredients for the sauce. That way, they’ll be there when you’re ready for them.”

Jawn nodded and wordlessly obeyed. 

Awsten could feel Lucas’ eyes on his back as he reached in and his fingers made contact with the squishy meat. 

Lucas moved to stand beside him. “Are you okay doing this?” he asked softly, just for Awsten to hear. 

“Uh, sure,” he lied quickly. “Yeah. It’s fine.” 

“Okay.” 

And that was that. Lucas slipped back out of the kitchen. 

Awsten tipped the styrofoam tray over, and the slab of beef plopped into the milky, greenish mixture with a squelch. 

“Eugh,” Jawn muttered from a few feet away. 

With a wooden spoon, Awsten smushed everything together, trying not to let himself think about what it reminded him of or how gross it sounded. He did alright for a little bit, but after a while, he had to pause and take a few deep breaths through his mouth.

“Want me to take over?” Jawn asked hesitantly. 

Awsten nodded and stepped away. 

Jawn only stirred the ingredients for a moment before he declared, “I think it’s time to make them into meatballs. Since neither of us want to do it, we’ll both do it together, okay? We’ll be done faster.”

“Kay.” That sounded fair enough.

Jawn reached in first and grabbed a chunk of soggy meat out of the bowl. He rolled it between his palms until it was round, and then he placed it on the cookie sheet. Awsten followed suit.

They worked quietly, each making about twelve before Jawn slid them all into the oven. 

“You get a pan and mix the spices together for the sauce, and I’ll cut up the tomatoes,” Jawn directed.

“Okay.” Somewhere along the line, Awsten had gone numb. And for some reason, he didn’t really mind. He followed Jawn’s instructions and then went ahead and turned the heat back on underneath the pot that they’d intended to use for the spaghetti before. 

By some miracle, dinner got done on time. Awsten sliced the loaf of French bread into generous pieces while Jawn mixed the finished meatballs in with the homemade sauce. 

“Shit!” Jawn cried. 

“What?”

“We didn’t set the table!”

“I’ll do it,” Awsten told him. “You finish with the food.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

Apparently, they hadn’t fucked anything up too badly, because not only did everyone seem to like the pasta, but Lucas and Ashton both had seconds. After dinner, Zakk surprised everyone with a special treat - they were each given two Oreos. Zakk gave Awsten a wink as he handed him the cookies. 

_You remembered!_ Awsten mouthed.

Zakk nodded with a smile. 

Everyone cleaned up together, and then Lucas called Awsten and Jawn into the school room. He had them each pull a chair into the center of the space so that they were facing each other. Lucas positioned himself off to the side, near the back corner of the room.

“What I want you gentlemen to do is take turns telling each other nice things about making dinner together.” 

“What?” Jawn groaned.

Awsten nodded at Jawn in agreement. 

“One at a time. Jawn will say something, then Awsten, you’ll say something. Then Jawn. And so on. I expect kindness here. No sarcasm. Who would like to go first?”

There was a long silence.

Awsten finally caved. “I will, I guess.” 

“Great. Go ahead.” 

“Um, you were good at making the sauce,” Awsten offered awkwardly, looking down at the pair of white socks he’d taken from Otto’s drawer. He wiggled his toes.

“You didn’t wanna do the meatballs, but you helped anyway.”

“Good,” Lucas said. “Okay, again. Eye contact this time.”

Awsten forced his head up in time to see Jawn doing the same. As their eyes met, Jawn quickly looked away. 

“Jawn,” Lucas murmured.

He returned his gaze to Awsten.

“You… got nicer at the end,” Awsten decided. “At first you wouldn’t let me see the paper, but then we started working together.”

Before Jawn could add his second thing, Lucas inserted a question. “Awsten, was it easier or harder to work together when you couldn’t read the recipe?”

“A lot harder.”

“And Jawn, what made you change your mind and show it to him?”

Jawn shrugged. “I don’t know.” 

“Well, when did you let him see?”

“I don’t know,” Jawn repeated.

“I do,” Awsten admitted. 

“Okay, Awsten, go ahead.”

“He didn’t read the whole thing before we started, so after we'd already started, he realized he’d fu-  _messed_ up the order of what we were supposed to do. He tried to blame me, but I pointed out that he didn’t let me see the paper, and then he let me see it. Probably so he could blame me if something went wrong later.”

“Or maybe,” Lucas said thoughtfully, “he knew that having two pairs of eyes would be more helpful than just one. Jawn, what do you think about that?”

Jawn shrugged. “I didn’t want to do it wrong, that’s all.” 

“So you needed help to make sure you followed the directions correctly?”

With a sigh, Jawn complained, “It sounds so stupid when you say it that way.” 

“But is it the truth?” 

“I guess,” Jawn mumbled.

Awsten smirked. Jawn glared at him.

“Alright, one more and then you’re done. But this time, I want you to thank the other person for something they did,” Lucas prompted.

“Okay, um…”

“Thanks for setting the table,” Jawn said quickly.

“Thanks for… taking over when I wanted a break,” Awsten quietly replied. 

Jawn looked up at him again then and nodded once. Awsten nodded once back. 

“Good. Anything else you wanna say?”

They both turned to him and shook their heads.

“Okay. Put the chairs away, and you guys can go upstairs. Thank you for cooperating.” 

The two boys accidentally bumped shoulders on their way out of the room. Awsten stepped back to let Jawn leave first.

 

* * *

 

_Alby walked over to him and sat down cross-legged; the crowd of boys followed and packed in behind. Heads popped up here and there, kids leaning in every direction to get a better look. “If you ain’t scared,” Alby said, “you ain’t human. Act any different and I’d throw you off the Cliff because it’d mean you’re a psycho.”_

_“The Cliff?” Thomas asked, blood draining from his face._

_“Shuck it,” Alby said, rubbing his eyes. “Ain’t no way to start these conversations, you get me? We don’t kill shanks like you here, I promise. Just try and avoid being killed, survive, whatever.” He paused, and Thomas realized his face must’ve whitened even more when he heard that last part. “Man,” Alby said, then ran his hands over his short hair as he let out a long sigh. “I ain’t good at this— you’re the first Greenbean since Nick was killed.”_

_Thomas’s eyes widened, and another boy stepped up and playfully slapped Alby across the head._

_“Wait for the bloody Tour, Alby,” he said, his voice thick with an odd accent. “Kid’s gonna have a buggin’ heart attack, nothin’ even been heard yet.” He bent down and extended his hand toward Thomas. “Name’s Newt, Greenie, and we’d all be right cheery if ya’d forgive our klunk-for-brains new leader, here.”_

_Thomas reached out and shook the boy’s hand—he seemed a lot nicer than Alby. Newt was taller than Alby too, but looked to be a year or so younger. His hair was blond and cut long, cascading over his t-shirt. Veins stuck out of his muscled arms._

_“Pipe it, shuck-face,” Alby grunted, pulling Newt down to sit next to him. “At least he can understand half my words.” There were a few scattered laughs, and then everyone gathered behind Alby and Newt, packing in even tighter, waiting to hear what they said. Alby spread his arms out, palms up. “This place is called the Glade, all right? It’s where we live, where we eat, where we sleep—we call ourselves the Gladers. That’s all you—”_

_“Who sent me here?” Thomas demanded, fear finally giving way to anger. “How’d—”_

_But Alby’s hand shot out before he could finish, grabbing Thomas by the shirt as he leaned forward on his knees. “Get up, shank, get up!” Alby stood, pulling Thomas with him._

_Thomas finally got his feet under him, scared all over again. He backed against the tree, trying to get away from Alby, who stayed right in his face._

_“No interruptions, boy!” Alby shouted. “Whacker, if we told you everything, you’d die on the spot, right after you klunked your pants. Baggers’d drag you off, and you ain’t no good to us then, are ya?”_

_“I don’t even know what you’re talking about,” Thomas said slowly, shocked at how steady his voice sounded._

_Newt reached out and grabbed Alby by the shoulders. “Alby, lay off a bit. You’re hurtin’ more than helpin’, ya know?”_

_Alby let go of Thomas’s shirt and stepped back, his chest heaving with breaths. “Ain’t got time to be nice, Greenbean. Old life’s over, new life’s begun. Learn the rules quick, listen, don’t talk. You get me?”_

_Thomas looked over at Newt, hoping for help. Everything inside him churned and hurt; the tears that had yet to come burned his eyes._

_Newt nodded. “Greenie, you get him, right?”_

_He nodded again. Thomas fumed, wanted to punch somebody. But he simply said, “Yeah.”_

_“Good that,” Alby said. “First Day. That’s what today is for you, shank. Night’s comin’, Runners’ll be back soon. The Box came late today, ain’t got time for the Tour. Tomorrow morning, right after the wakeup.” He turned toward Newt. “Get him a bed, get him to sleep.”_

_“Good that,” Newt said. Alby’s eyes returned to Thomas, narrowing. “A few weeks, you’ll be happy, shank. You’ll be happy and helpin’. None of us knew jack on First Day, you neither. New life begins tomorrow.”_

_Alby turned and pushed his way through the crowd, then headed for the slanted wooden building in the corner. Most of the kids wandered away then, each one giving Thomas a lingering look before they walked off._

_Thomas folded his arms, closed his eyes, took a deep breath. Emptiness ate away at his insides, quickly replaced by a sadness that hurt his heart. It was all too much—where was he? What was this place? Was it some kind of prison? If so, why had he been sent here, and for how long? The language was odd, and none of the boys seemed to care whether he lived or died._

_Tears threatened again to fill his eyes, but he refused to let them come. “What did I do?” he whispered, not really meaning for anyone to hear him. “What did I do—why’d they send me here?”_

_Newt clapped him on the shoulder. “Greenie, what you’re feelin’, we’ve all felt it. We’ve all had First Day, come out of that dark box. Things are bad, they are, and they’ll get much worse for ya soon, that’s the truth. But down the road a piece, you’ll be fightin’ true and good. I can tell you’re not a bloody sissy.”_

_“Is this a prison?” Thomas asked; he dug in the darkness of his thoughts, trying to find a crack to his past._

_“Done asked four questions, haven’t ya?” Newt replied. “No good answers for ya, not yet, anyway. Best be quiet now, accept the change—morn comes tomorrow.”_

_Thomas said nothing, his head sunk, his eyes staring at the cracked, rocky ground. A line of small-leafed weeds ran along the edge of one of the stone blocks, tiny yellow flowers peeping through as if searching for the sun, long disappeared behind the enormous walls of the Glade._

_“Chuck’ll be a good fit for ya,” Newt said. “Wee little fat shank, but nice sap when all’s said and done. Stay here, I’ll be back.”_

_Newt had barely finished his sentence when a sudden, piercing scream ripped through the air. High and shrill, the barely human shriek echoed across the stone courtyard; every kid in sight turned to look toward the source. Thomas felt his blood turn to icy slush as he realized that the horrible sound came from the wooden building. Even Newt had jumped as if startled, his forehead creasing in concern._

_“Shuck it,” he said. “Can’t the bloody Med-jacks handle that boy for ten minutes without needin’ my help?” He shook his head and lightly kicked Thomas on the foot. “Find Chuckie, tell him he’s in charge of your sleepin’ arrangements.” And then he turned and headed in the direction of the building, running._

_Thomas slid down the rough face of the tree until he sat on the ground again; he shrank back against the bark and closed his eyes, wishing he could wake up from this terrible, terrible dream._

 

* * *

 

 **Peace and Purpose Home for Young Men - Jawn and Awsten's Room**  
**March 21, Sometime in the middle of the night**

Awsten jolted up in bed with with a soft cry of fear.

“Mmph. Awsten?” Jawn asked tiredly.

“I-I’m okay,” Awsten whispered, his chest heaving. He cupped a hand over his mouth to quiet the sounds of his gasps. 

“What’re you dreaming about now?”

Awsten didn’t answer right away; he was busy trying to catch his breath. “Bad things.”

“What kind of bad things?” 

Jawn seemed to be more asleep than awake, so really, what was the harm?

“The guy that killed himself at my school.” 

“Oh.” Jawn was quiet for a moment. “Do you dream about him every night?” 

“Almost.” 

“Oh," he said again. "What about when you don’t?”

Awsten’s mind flickered through a series of images. There was the gigantic blue flood swallowing the house. The recurring one about standing in front of a pantry where everything was still several feet out of reach despite the fact that Awsten was practically an adult. And the most recent one, the one he’d had after he fell back asleep after Jawn panicked about his teeth falling out. The bridge. The city skyline. That… feeling.

“I don’t know.” 

Jawn yawned and burrowed deeper into his blankets. “What did you dream just now?” 

“Um, that I was… I was at school with him right after he shot himself. Except he didn’t die right away. He was bleeding and choking, and there was blood coming out of his nose and his mouth, but he wouldn’t die. He didn’t say anything, but he kept grabbing my shirt,” Awsten murmured, reaching up to press his palm to his chest. His fingers twisted around the fabric, just like Michael’s had in the dream.

Jawn didn’t respond. 

Awsten sat up a little straighter to try to get a better look at him, and it seemed as though he had fallen back to sleep. Awsten climbed quietly out from under the covers and padded across the room to take Oliver off the dresser. Hugging the frog close to his chest, he slipped back under his blankets and then closed his eyes. 

For several minutes, there was silence, and Awsten’s breathing returned to normal. He started to relax, but just as he felt himself drifting off, he stopped himself.

“Otto?” Awsten called.

But the “Yeah?” didn’t come.

“Otto?” he tried again, louder that time.

Still nothing. 

Awsten opened his eyes and found himself at the group home. 

A door opened, and Zakk appeared. “Hey, big bear. You calling me?”

Awsten shook his head.

“Hmm. Was Jawn?”

Awsten shook his head again.

“Oh. I thought I heard something from in here. Are you guys okay?"

Awsten nodded. "Yeah. Sorry."

“What’s up?”

Timidly, he confessed, “I was calling my friend. I thought I was at home.” 

“Oh. No, not today.” Zakk waited, but Awsten didn’t say anything else. “Everything alright?”

Awsten hugged Oliver tighter. “Do you think God can stop bad dreams?”

Zakk seemed a little caught off-guard by the question, but he recovered quickly. “I think God can do anything.”

“Then why doesn’t he stop mine?” 

Zakk exhaled slowly and quietly. He came over and sat down on the side of Awsten’s bed. “They’re really getting to be a problem, huh?” 

Awsten nodded. 

“Me and Lucas were wondering if that’s why you weren’t sleeping last week. Was it cause you were having nightmares?”

“Uh-huh,” he responded, his gaze focused on Oliver’s little hand instead of Zakk. 

“Have you told Rian?” 

“He knows.” 

“Okay, buddy.” He pursed his lips sadly. “You gonna be okay tonight?”

Awsten nodded again.

“You gonna go back to sleep?”

“Yeah. I don’t want to, but… I’m really tired.” 

“Okay,” Zakk said as he stood up. “I’m right next door if you need me.” 

“Wait - Zakk?”

“Yeah?”

“I… How come God gives me nightmares, though? Jon says he wants us to be happy.”

Zakk sat back down. “Sometimes we have to go through bad stuff before we can feel happy again. And sometimes we can find happy moments even in the worst parts of the bad times.” 

“Yeah.”

“Like I said yesterday, I’m not God. But I think he’s trying to help you work through everything going on up here,” Zakk said, reaching forward and lightly tapping twice on Awsten’s forehead. “Since you’re not doing it, he’s trying to do it for you.” 

“Oh. But… Wouldn’t Rian say that’s science?”

“Probably,” Zakk nodded. “God is everywhere, though. You just have to look.”

Awsten was quiet.

“You know, now that I’m thinking about it, there’s a whole bunch of stuff on dreams in the Bible. We can look at it later if you want. Or I can write some verses down for you.”

“Okay.”

“There was this guy in the Bible, and his whole thing was that he would have weird dreams. Other people would tell him about their weird dreams, too. Like, even the pharaoh. I suck at remembering Bible stuff, so I don’t remember exactly what it is, but I’m pretty sure that it’s in the beginning and it’s about Joseph. I’ll-”

“Zakk?” Jawn interrupted groggily. “What are you doing in here?”

“Oh, hey. Sorry, dude. I was just checking on Awsten. We were getting kinda loud, huh?”

“Yeah.” And then he sleepily put a finger to his lips. “Shh.”

Zakk chuckled. “Alright, yeah. Go back to sleep. I’m leaving in a second.” Then, to Awsten, he whispered, “I think we have a movie about it, actually. I’ll have to check with Lucas in the morning.” 

Awsten nodded.

“Try to get some sleep,” he advised, “and if you change your mind, just chill in bed, okay? Let your body rest.”

“What time is it?” 

“It’s like three-thirty.”

“I woke you up,” Awsten realized. 

“Yeah, but it’s okay. It’s my job. Don’t feel bad.”

Absently, Awsten ran his fingers up and down Oliver’s arm.

Zakk took a minute to study him before he left. “You good? For real?”

“Mhmm.” Awsten wasn’t sure whether or not it was a lie.

“I’m next door if you need me,” Zakk said again as he got to his feet. “I know I tell you guys all the time, but just. I’m here.” 

“Kay,” Awsten whispered. 

Zakk crossed the room and paused at the door. “Night, dude. See you in the morning”

“Night.” 

Awsten waited until Zakk’s bedroom door quietly clicked shut again before he turned onto his side in bed. He tucked Oliver under his chin and squeezed his eyes shut. “If you’re really listening to me,” he whispered under his breath, “please don’t give me another nightmare.”

Awsten soon fell into a peaceful sleep, where he remained until morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come hang out at http://miafic.tumblr.com :)  
> im doing 25 days of made in america and posting something new about the story every day! you can check out http://miafic.tumblr.com/tagged/25 to see what we've been up to so far!


	19. Process the Progress

** Peace and Purpose Home for Young Men - The Landing  
March 21, 12:58 PM **

“Oh, wait - Travis, we need to change your Band-Aid before we go. Hold on.”

Awsten followed Lucas and Travis over to Lucas’ room. Lucas and Travis went inside, but Awsten stopped in the doorway.

“Here, sit,” Lucas directed Travis, pointing to the foot of his bed. 

Travis shook his head. 

“Okay. You can choose where, but I need you to sit,” he said as he went to his closet and pulled out a first aid kid.

Travis plopped down in the middle of the floor. “Can it be pink? Please?” 

“The one I gave you yesterday was the last pink one,” Lucas told him. “I’m sorry. I have plain ones, a couple of blue ones, and I have this shiny one.”

“Shiny!” 

“Okay.” He glanced over his shoulder as he pulled on a fresh pair of purple gloves. “Awsten, you can come in if you want.”

“I’m good over here,” Awsten replied quietly. He looked away as Lucas crouched down to remove the bandage Travis had been given after his shower the night before and start gingerly applying Neosporin to the wound.

“Ouch!” Travis cried. His hands reached forward, and his fingers dug into Lucas’ forearms.

“I know; I’m sorry. It’ll be over soon.”

_It’s over now._

Awsten subconsciously leaned back as the calming sentences replayed in his mind.

_I’ve got you. It’s over now. It’s over now. I’ve got you. You’re safe._

_I-I tried to stop him-_

Awsten could see the blood everywhere, but then Mr. W’s comforting words returned.

_I know. And it’s over now. It’s done._

Awsten released the breath he was holding, somehow feeling better after the memory instead of worse. He glanced back into the room just in time to see Lucas pulling the tabs off of the large, iridescent band-aid and sticking it to Travis’ knee. 

“Pretty,” Travis observed, pleased and no longer upset.

“I agree,” Lucas nodded. “Let’s head out, though. We’ve got a long drive ahead of us.”

“We’re gonna go in the van to see Rian?” Travis asked hopefully.

“Yep.”

“Yay, Rian!” Travis cheered.

“You see Rian?” Awsten asked as they walked out to the landing and started down the stairs. “For therapy?”

“Yes!”

“Oh. Me, too.”

Travis smiled wider. “We both go!” He turned to Lucas. “We’ll go together?”

“No, one at a time.”

“Oh,” Travis said, his face falling. 

“Is Godfrey gonna be there?” Awsten inquired.

“Who?”

“Godfrey. You know, the… never mind.” 

Lucas looked at him quizzically but didn’t press it.

They climbed into the van, Awsten directly behind Lucas, and Travis in the seat next to Awsten’s. Lucas adjusted the backseat mirror attached to the dashboard so that he could focus on just the two of them instead of the whole interior, and then they were off. 

The drive was long, but Awsten was starting to recognize some of the music on KSBJ, which helped. Travis was talkative, and Awsten was, too. They pointed out stores and restaurants that they saw once they got closer to the hospital, and Awsten began animatedly telling silly, exaggerated stories about the crazy things he’d done during the times he’d been in some of them with Otto. 

When they pulled into the familiar parking garage, Lucas kept the door locks on for a moment to remind Travis not to run through the road. 

“Cause cars are coming, and they might not be able to stop real fast.”

“That’s right. We have to make sure the path is clear and that it’s safe for us to cross.” He turned to Awsten. “Right?”

“Right,” Awsten echoed.

“Okay.” 

Slowly, the three of them exited the car and walked - Lucas kept emphasizing that they would be _walking_ \- through the sliding doors. He figured that Travis must have taken off running at some point.

“Why does it always smell like a pool in here?” Awsten whispered as they passed a reception desk. 

Lucas smiled. “You know… I don’t know. I’ve never thought about that before. It’s probably the cleaner they use.”

“Yeah,” Awsten nodded. But his focus had already shifted; he was on the lookout for a certain friendly poodle. 

The trio settled into chairs in the waiting room. Awsten glanced over at the other side of the room, the place where he’d been expecting Otto’s dad to hit him for the first time. But the blow never came, and instead, for the first time in years, Awsten told Otto’s parents that he loved them. And they said they loved him, too. The corners of his lips turned up as the scene played in his head like a movie.

And then an image of Michael’s body flickered through his mind. The smile faded.

“Awsten, look!” Travis said loudly, and Lucas gently shushed him. Travis wasn’t deterred, though; he launched forward and grabbed a magazine off of the little table in front of them. 

Lucas raised his eyebrows in amusement as he read the cover, but Awsten hadn’t been able to get a good look at it. At least, not until Travis shoved it into his lap and pleaded, “Will you read this to me like Mr. W read to us? Please, please?”

Awsten looked down at the magazine resting on his knees. His eyes paused on the beautiful woman gracing the cover, but he was horrified to notice that the words above her declared, _Meet DAKOTA JOHNSON - the star of FIFTY SHADES OF GREY_ and that beside her were other headlines like, “Best bags, jeans, shoes,  & dresses to upgrade your style from okay to amazing!” and “Sexy, shiny, bouncy hair in four foolproof steps!” 

“Uh…” Awsten muttered. 

“What about that one?” Lucas asked, eyeing a magazine that was called  _National Geographic Kids_.

“There’s dogs on it!” Travis cried as he dove to swipe it off the table.

“Those are pandas,” Awsten corrected kindly. 

“There’s pandas on it!” he repeated as he mashed it onto Awsten’s legs. “Read it, read it!”

“Shh, Travis,” Lucas reminded. 

“Sorry,” he stage whispered back.

“Is that how we ask for something?” Lucas continued.

“Please can you read me it?” Travis begged Awsten. “The parts about the pandas!”

“Okay.” Awsten opened the magazine and flipped to the middle section where the article about the panda cubs was. “Here. Look at them. They’re so tiny.” He gaped as his eyes landed on one of the little fact bubbles off to the side. “Hey, Lucas!” he exclaimed quietly.

“Yeah?”

“Did you know that a girl panda can weigh as much as _thirty_ professional football players?”

“Wow. I did not.”

“It says it right here.” Awsten pointed to the page so Lucas could see for himself. 

He leaned over to peer at the purple bubble with the information inside. “Wow,” he said again as he sat back up. “That’s a lot more than I would have guessed.”

“What else does it say?” Travis asked, his eyes wide.

“Hmm. This part says…” He read ahead a little and then summarized. “These are two baby pandas that were born at a zoo in Atlanta. That’s far away from here, but not too far away.”

“Could we go see them?”

Lucas chuckled.

“No,” Awsten answered, shaking his head. “It would probably take us a whole day in the car just to get there.”

Hopefully, Travis protested, “I wouldn’t mind that.”

“I would,” Lucas countered under his breath. 

Awsten smiled at the counselor and then turned back to the magazine. “There aren’t a lot of pandas left in the world,” he continued, still paraphrasing, “so it’s really cool that they got two of them at once. Um, baby pandas are hard to take care of, so… so the people that work at the zoo have to help their mom a lot. They have to weigh them and feed them and make sure they’re warm enough, and they have to do all of that a bunch of times every day. So they do this thing called ‘swapping,’ where they take care of one baby and leave the other one with the mom, and then after a while, they switch and take care of the other baby. Whoa, and they don’t get names until a hundred days after their birthday.”

“Why?” Travis asked curiously.

“It says that’s the tradition in China.” He turned to Travis. “A lot of pandas are from China.” 

“Pandas,” Travis echoed thoughtfully. 

“Pandas are really big,” Lucas said, as if it had just occurred to him. He peeked down at the magazine and asked, “Are there any pictures of adult ones?”

Awsten turned the page. “Um - yeah, here.”

“Look, Travis,” Lucas murmured. “See the mom holding her baby?”

“They’re pink!” Travis exclaimed, interested in a different picture. 

“Hey, guys,” came a warm voice, and all three of them looked up to see Rian standing off to the side. 

“Rian!” Travis crowed. He bounced up from his chair and dashed over to hug the therapist, who chuckled and patted him lightly on the back. 

“Hey, Travis. Are you coming back with me first?” 

“Yes!” 

“Okay. Awsten, is that okay with you?” 

“Yeah,” Awsten nodded. 

“Lucas?”

“Fine with me,” he responded easily. 

“Okay. We’ll be back in a bit.” 

In the waiting room, things grew awkward quickly. It was silent, and there was nothing to do or say. Lucas began answering emails on his phone and, after a while, Awsten noticed, scrolling through Instagram. Awsten hadn’t really thought about Lucas having friends or a social life before. 

Before things got unbearably boring, Awsten busied himself by reading the National Geographic Kids magazine from front to back, except with lots of pauses, because he kept getting distracted by the phone ringing, or someone walking past his chair, or thoughts about the ducks on page twenty-two. Once he finished it, he replaced it on the table. Everything else was either about sports, fashion, celebrity gossip, or home design in Texas, and Awsten wasn’t particularly interested in further information on any of those things. So he sat quietly and kicked his feet back and forth under the chair, wishing he had his book. Or better, wishing he had Mr. W there to read to him in his hushed voice.

Awsten watched the other people in the waiting room for a little while, listening as their names got called and wondering what they were there for. But pretty soon, his mind turned to thinking. Thinking about Michael, about his mom, about Godfrey, about what his dad’s days were like in prison, about slamming his fist into Jawn’s face…

Awsten heard a little jingle, and he covertly turned over his shoulder to look in the direction of the hall behind the chairs that he and Lucas were occupying. Awsten gasped softly when he saw the source the noise. “Godfrey!”

Lucas glanced up and followed Awsten’s gaze to the pink-haired girl with the polka-dot bandana tied around her head. Awsten couldn’t remember her name, but he didn’t think it mattered, especially after she smiled brightly at Awsten and waved. She looked down at the dog beside her and encouraged, “Go on, then!” 

“Come here!” Awsten cooed, gently clapping his hands to get the dog’s attention. 

With his tail wagging, Godfrey trotted straight to Awsten, who leaned down to press their foreheads together. 

“Hey!” he said cheerfully, scratching Godfrey behind the ears. “Hey, buddy! Hey, buddy!” 

He heard Lucas and the girl introducing themselves to each other beside him - _Grace_ , yes, that was her name - but he was too busy nuzzling his face against Godfrey’s and planting kisses on his head to contribute anything to the conversation. 

Lucas was petting Godfrey’s back and commenting to Grace that he was so soft when Godfrey started to climb onto the seat beside Awsten. 

“Oh, he loves the chairs,” Grace laughed. “Is it okay if he sits there?”

“He can do literally whatever he wants, and I will not care,” Awsten replied automatically.

She laughed again. “Okay. I think he wants to l-”

Before she could finish saying “lie down in your lap,” Godfrey settled in just as he had the first time they’d met, the entire front half of him comfortably resting on Awsten. 

Awsten smiled and reached down to cup his chin. “I love you so much,” he murmured for just Godfrey to hear. “You’re such a good boy.”

Godfrey licked him. 

Grace recognized another one of the patients, and she traveled a few feet away to talk to them. Lucas was petting Godfrey again when the pressing urge to say something started to overwhelm Awsten. He decided not to fight it. 

“Lucas,” Awsten said, not looking up from Godfrey’s curls. 

“Hmm?”

“I’m… not sorry to Jawn. That I hit him.” 

Lucas let go of the dog and transferred his full attention to Awsten.

“But I’m sorry to everybody else. Especially you.” He swallowed and glanced up. 

“Thank you,” Lucas replied, a soft expression on his face. 

Awsten nodded and cast his eyes away. 

“You and Jawn don’t have to make up right away, and you don’t even have to like each other. It’s okay. You’re not going to get along with every single person you meet in life. But the difference is that at Peace and Purpose, we’re all a team. We need to be able to work together despite our differences.”

“Yeah.” 

“You two gentlemen showed me last night at dinner that you’re capable of that.”

Awsten nodded again. 

“Just give it time. It’ll get easier.” 

“I hope so,” Awsten sighed.

 

* * *

 

_March 20, 2014_

_I have never seen myself as the type of man to keep a journal, but I suppose that now, I am willing to try anything that may help me return to normal. So now I find myself here, keeping a journal. I’m not quite sure how long this will last._

_I attended group therapy last night at Lucas' encouraging, and Tami, the woman in charge, suggested that I 'give journaling a try.' I stayed after the meeting for a while to discuss some things with her (Michael, Awsten, John, and how to cope with the lockdown, the suicide, the students, the internal onslaught of existential questions…). I cannot say that the meeting or the conversation afterward was of substantial help to me, but I do acknowledge that it was nice to get some of my anxieties off of my chest._

_Since Michael ended his life, I have felt a heavy weight pressing on my heart. Seeing Awsten earlier this week added to that weight, regardless of how brief our interaction was. But I do hope to see him again on Sunday if he’ll have me._

_These days have been just as trying as those I lived through when I left California for the last time. Not as personally painful, I suppose, because that brought several endings. But painful nonetheless, because now a child has died. A child with intention to murder countless adults and other children. And possibly me._

_I find myself wondering constantly what would have happened if the lockdown had never been announced, or if it had happened mere moments later. If Michael were to have opened fire on my classroom first, which I strongly suspect was his plan, I sincerely do not know how I would have reacted. I have not the slightest clue. I like to think I would have protected my students, because that truly was my goal after we got the message, but at that point, I had both the time and the clarity to decide what was most important. But suppose he had walked in with that dreadful machine gun and no warning… I’m not sure how things would have concluded._

 

_Geoffrey D. Wigington  
_ _July 2, 1987 - March 5, 2014_

 

_Imagine that._

_What would people say about me? Which photograph would they have printed in the newspaper? How would my students react? Would my family fly to Texas, collect my body, and bring me home? (Lakeview is my home now.) Or would they not even acknowledge their relation to me? Maybe they would find themselves divided. Perhaps Sarah would try to come, and perhaps Father would threaten to disown her the way he so often did with me._

_I suppose I’ll never know._

_Not one of them has returned my phone call, but regardless, I hope they are all well._

 

* * *

**Petekey Memorial Hospital - Rian's Office**  
** March 21, 3:04 PM **

“So how have you been?”

“Uh, good, I guess.”

“Good. I'm glad to hear that. How are you coping with the news about your mom?” 

Awsten shrugged. “I don’t really think about it that much.” Was that the truth? Awsten didn’t know.

“And your dad?”

“I think about him even less.”

Rian nodded. “Would you like to talk about either of them?”

Awsten shook his head.

“Okay. Are you comfortable giving me an update on your roommate, then?”

Awsten chuckled dryly.

“What?”

“Didn’t Travis tell you?”

“Well, we’re not here to talk about Travis or what he told me. I’m interested in hearing from you about your roommate and how the two of you are doing this week.” 

“We’re fine.”

“Fine?”

“Yeah. Fine. I don’t know. I mean, I kind of punched him in the face, but like… yeah.”

Rian’s eyebrows shot up. 

“Did Travis seriously not tell you?” Awsten asked incredulously.

“I can’t discuss other patients with you, Awsten. And even if I could, I wouldn’t. I’m just… very surprised that you chose the word ‘fine’ to describe your week with him,” he explained. “Tell me what happened.”

Awsten rolled his eyes and gave a brief summary. 

Rian made some notes and then looked down at them for a moment. Then he asked, “What happened afterward?”

Bitterly, the story about Otto and his family being barred from the group home emerged. “He says he’s in therapy, too, now. I wish I could see him.” 

“Maybe being apart for a while will be beneficial to you both. Sometimes-”

“No.” 

“No?”

“No.” Awsten shook his head. “We’re both not doing well, and now we’re, like. We can’t help each other. And it fucking sucks.” 

Rian jotted something else down. “So, back to Jawn for a minute… How have things been with him since the incident in the kitchen?”

“Lucas keeps forcing us to talk to each other and sit together and do stuff together,” Awsten sighed. “We had to make dinner last night, just the two of us.”

“And how did that go?”

Grudgingly, Awsten admitted, “Not as bad as I was expecting.”

“Do you think Jawn seems angry with you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Hmm. Has he talked to you without Lucas’ prompting?”

“No. But he, like. He left a letter for me on my bed.”

“Oh? Was it an apology letter?”

Awsten shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know what it said, because I didn’t read it.”

“I see. Why didn’t you?”

“Cause I don’t give a fuck what he has to say.” 

Rian adjusted slightly in his chair. “Aren’t you curious?”

“No. He’s an asshole.”

“Well, it’s your choice whether you read it or not. But I do think that letters are a very important means of communication. He had the time and clarity to say whatever he wanted to say in exactly the way he wanted to say it. And then he decided that it was worth sharing with you. It’s probably a good thing that you didn’t read it while you were still so mad. But - regardless of whether it’s an apology or not - I think when you have a clear head, you should give it a chance.”

Awsten shrugged.

“Okay. You ready to move on?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Alright. How often are you thinking about what happened at school?”

Awsten looked up at Rian, a sharp glare in his eyes.

Rian calmly stared back.

“A lot.”

“How much is a lot?”

Awsten scoffed and looked away. “I don’t know.”

“Ballpark. Once an hour, once or twice all afternoon-?”

“Once a _minute_ ,” Awsten corrected angrily.

“Okay. Once a minute. So a _lot,_  a lot. This is even if you’re working on schoolwork or doing an activity?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Enough time has passed since the fifth that I’m a little concerned about that. For what you’ve been through, it’s very normal for you to be thinking about it on a regular basis. But that volume of thoughts has got to be overwhelming.”

Awsten was careful not to react.

“When you think about it… what’s it like?”

“Not good.”

“What do you mean?”

Awsten fidgeted with his fingers. “Like, um. It’s…”

“It’s alright. Take your time.” 

He tried to get a deep breath, but his lungs didn’t want to cooperate. “It’s a ton of blood,” he confessed. “And, like. He’s lying there. Sometimes it’s stuff that didn’t happen - like, I picture it worse than it was. But most of the time it’s just him being there in the grass. And my ears feel like they did right after.” 

Rian nodded.

Awsten meant to stop there, he really did, but it felt so freeing to get it off of his chest and out in the open that he kept going. “And then other times it’s the beginning part. Like, me walking into school and going down the hallway and then seeing him there. Burning my leg with the coffee. Trying to get him to go through the door.” He pressed his nails into his skin. “I just wonder if it could have ended a different way. If I could have said something or done something that would have stopped him…”

Rian didn’t look like he was going to speak, but Awsten hurried to continue in case he was. He didn’t need Rian to lie to him. Awsten knew the weight of what he’d done.

“I hate thinking about it all the time. Like, even when good stuff is happening, or funny stuff. And everything reminds me of it. _Everything_. Noises, and people standing far away, and grass, and long hallways, and fucking pasta… I’m never gonna get rid of it.”

“I know it feels impossible, but it _will_ fade.”

“No,” Awsten countered immediately. “I always think about how I’ll see what happened forever. Every goddamn day for the rest of my life, no matter how old I am or what else is going on.”

“You might,” Rian agreed. “It was a very serious, very traumatic incident. But after a while, it won’t feel so vivid. Someday, the memories won’t be so intrusive.”

“I don’t believe you.” 

“Okay. That’s okay. You don’t have to.”

Awsten nodded. “Um, I remembered something yesterday.”

“Okay. Do you want to share?”

“Yeah. Cause I didn’t know there was anything I didn’t remember, but I think it was just because it all happened so fast, you know?”

Rian nodded.

“Like, I saw him in the hall, and then we went outside, and then I was trying to talk him out of whatever he was gonna do, and then he… And then the cops came, and then I went to the police station, and then, you know, everything kinda slowed down after that. But in the middle part…” He swallowed thickly. “I forgot that, um. After he - after he…” Awsten forced the words out. “… _shot_ himself, he was… I… Sorry,” Awsten exhaled, a hand pressed to his chest. He wasn’t panicking, but he was definitely out of breath. 

“Take your time,” Rian told him again. 

Awsten sat without moving, letting himself be quiet. Then, without looking up, he stated, “I tried to put his head back together.” 

The air was still. Awsten couldn’t tell whether or not Rian had reacted, but he could hear that Rian wasn’t writing. 

“After he fired the gun, I, um. God. It bothered me so much yesterday, because that’s the fucking - the fucking grossest thing-” Awsten folded forward on the couch, burying his face in his hands and letting out a moan. “Why the hell would I do that? It’s disgusting. It’s - it’s…” 

Awsten had been quiet for several seconds when Rian said, “You were in shock.” 

“It doesn’t matter. That’s - the cops yelled at me for that.”

“Because… as twisted as this sounds, that’s a crime scene. Which means you were tampering with evidence.”

“I tried to put his _brain_ back in his _head,_ ”Awsten said loudly, looking up at his therapist. “I was cupping blood out of the grass and trying to pour it back in. There was so much of it. It was like a glass spilled, like there was a fucking _river_ coming out of him, and it kept coming, and coming, and coming. It would’t stop. I didn’t know people had that much blood in them. Like, you hear about it, but you don’t really get it until… And I was trying to put it all back, and I was covered in it, and I didn’t even care.” He averted his gaze. “I am so fucking fucked up.”

“No.” Rian leaned forward. “Awsten. Like I said, you were in shock. That is a very normal reaction.”

“How?” Awsten demanded, eyes blazing.

“Because you saw things where they weren’t supposed to be. You tried to fix them, yes?”

“But it was parts of his _brain_!”

“Your mind couldn’t understand that, Awsten. You were traumatized.”

“That fast?”

“Yes, that fast.” 

Awsten shook his head. “It’s too gross. That doesn’t happen. People don’t do that.”

“You might be surprised,” Rian countered.

Awsten laughed emptily in disbelief. 

“If you’d like a concrete example, Jackie Kennedy did exactly the same thing when JFK was shot.”

Awsten’s heart about stopped beating in his chest. With wide eyes, he looked up at Rian. He could suddenly hear himself breathing, hear the clock ticking on the wall. “I’m cold,” he whispered. 

“Okay,” Rian murmured, watching him carefully. “I have a throw blanket. Would you like it?”

“Uh-huh.”

Rian stood up and went behind the other corner of the sofa to retrieve it. He passed it to Awsten, who unfolded it and draped it across his lap. Rian kept an eye on him as he pulled part of it up to his chest. 

“What are you thinking about right now?” Rian asked, sitting back down in his chair and picking up his notebook and pen.

“That, um. That I had his brain in my hands, and I didn’t have any gloves on. And… that somebody else went through this, too.”

“That’s right,” Rian nodded. 

Awsten’s voice was almost inaudible when he said, “I never thought about that. I hate it. It’s terrible.” 

“It is.” 

“Nobody should have a gun,” Awsten added, still barely making any sound. 

“There are a lot of people who would agree with you on that.” Rian let Awsten stay quiet for a while, but then he asked, “What made you remember doing that?”

“Travis.”

Rian nodded, his expression prompting Awsten to continue.

“He fell before school yesterday. He probably told you. He was chasing a fucking butterfly, and he fell in the driveway. Scraped the shit out of his knee…” Awsten’s fingers clenched tightly around the blanket. 

“You were close by when it happened?”

“Yeah. I was right there.” 

“Alright, let’s take a little break,” Rian said calmly, and Awsten silently exhaled in relief. “You’re doing great. You’re doing really, really great. This is _excellent_ work, Awsten. But I know it’s a lot, so I want you to tell me three good things about today.”

“I saw Godfrey,” came the immediate answer. The stark images of bloody palms and Travis crying in pain were replaced by the memory of the big, curly poodle climbing happily onto the chair beside Awsten’s.

“Good,” Rian smiled. “I was hoping you would.”

“He came and sat in my lap for like fifteen whole minutes, and I got to pet him and stuff.” 

“That’s great, Awsten. You really do like dogs a lot, don't you? I remember you told me that during our first session.”

Awsten nodded.

“What else has been good?”

“I said sorry to Lucas, and he said it was okay.” Awsten paused. “Well, he didn’t say it was okay, but he said he accepted my apology.” 

“That’s a big deal,” Rian said, an encouraging smile on his face. “What did you say sorry about?”

“For hitting Jawn.”

That prompted some confusion for Rian. “Why did you apologize to Lucas about that?”

“Cause he was there. And he got pretty mad about it. I guess I would be mad about it, too, if I had his job and two of the kids started fighting each other, even if they didn’t say ‘I fucking hate you’ to me like I said to him.”

Rian's pen started moving again. “Stepping up and saying you’re sorry is very mature.”

“Yeah, well. I was an asshole. Jawn deserved it, but Lucas didn’t. And the third thing… um… does Jawn not coming in the van count? It was just me, Travis, and Lucas. And me and Travis talked the whole way here.”

“Whatever is good to you counts. I think that sounds like a great thing.” Rian studied him for a moment. “Do you want to tell me more about the things you remembered?”

Awsten shook his head.

“Okay. That’s fine. Can we talk about your dreams?”

“What about them?”

“Are you still having a lot of nightmares?”

He nodded.

“Are you having any good dreams?”

Awsten hesitated and then supplied, “Yeah.”

“Good. Okay, good. Do you want to tell me about them?”

“I keep having this one dream,” Awsten said slowly, his gaze falling to the ground. “I’m standing on the Rainbow Bridge, all the way up on top of the arch, looking out at Houston. It’s night.” Awsten shifted his focus to the fidgety fingers in his lap. 

“What are you doing up there?”

“Just… standing.”

Rian started to write on his notepad. “Why?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know how I got up there, just that I did. And I don’t know why I’m there, but I am.” 

Rian thought for a moment. Awsten wondered if he was deciding what question to ask. 

“What’s below you?”

“The water. Just like in real life. But the city doesn’t seem as far away as it’s supposed to be. Or at least - not as far as I remember. I’ve only been on the bridge, like. Once.” 

“How many times have you been on it in the dream?”

“Um, three.”

“And when was the first instance?”

“Right after I moved to Otto’s. Like, maybe the first night I was there. And then twice since I came to Peace and Purpose. It’s usually after I wake up from a bad dream and fall asleep again.”

“Hmm,” Rian said, nodding. “Okay. And what happens in the dream?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you climb down? Do you… talk to someone? Do you jump?”

“No, but I think about it.”

“Which part?”

Awsten’s response was quiet. “All of them.” 

“Is there someone with you in the dream?”

“You mean like…? No, he’s not in this one.”

“Then who would you talk to?”

“Um. God, I guess?”

Rian nodded in understanding. “And what would you say to God?”

“I don’t know,” Awsten shrugged. “I don’t have anything to say. That’s why I only think about it.” He huffed a laugh. “I don’t know if he’s listening. I don’t know if he’s even real.”

“But you won’t try?”

“What, talking to him?”

Rian nodded.

“No,” Awsten chuckled.

“Why not? It seems like if you’re up there, it might be worth a shot.” 

“It’s embarrassing,” Awsten countered, and he blushed to prove it.

“Okay. So you’re not talking to God. And you’re not climbing down. Why not?”

Awsten relaxed back against the couch, pulling the throw higher on his chest. “I like it up there,” he explained, almost defensively. 

“So you don’t _want_ to come down.”

“Nope.”

“Okay, that makes sense. What do you like about it?”

“The lights. The water, the wind, the quiet… The view.” He started messing with the corner of the blanket. “I never got to see views when I was a kid, so I guess I think they’re cool now. And I'm alone, and I never get to be alone anymore.” 

“You said it’s nighttime in the dream, right?”

Awsten nodded.

“So the city’s lit up?”

A tiny smile illuminated his face. “Yeah. It’s all gold… It looks really nice. I know it’s made up, but I still like it.”

“No, that’s fine,” Rian agreed. “It must be pretty.”

Awsten didn’t speak.

“Tell me what you think about jumping.” 

“I could just step off the edge. It might hurt, but only for a second. And then my brain would be dark. And quiet.” 

“How does imagining that make you feel?”

“Calm.” He shrugged. “Really good.”

“Do you think, in the dream, you want to die?”

“Definitely. It’s all I think about.”

Rian slowly set the pen down. He watched Awsten unblinkingly. “So why don’t you jump?”

“Because as soon as I jump, it ends.”

“What does? The dream?” 

“No.” Awsten pondered how to phrase his experience. “The knowledge that I can.”

 

* * *

 

 **The Van**  
**March 21, 4:35 PM**

Awsten was quiet on the ride home. Travis was chattering away to Lucas, but Awsten passed the time staring out the window. 

When they were at a stoplight about three quarters of the way to Peace and Purpose, Awsten noticed a pasture filled with cows. Usually in the Woods’ car, Otto announced the farm animals they drove by, so Awsten didn’t feel much like shouting, “Cows!” But what he did do - without realizing it - was let out a low, fairly accurate mooing sound. 

The van went dead silent, and the noise Awsten made caught up to his ears. With wide eyes, he looked in the car mirror to see Lucas staring straight at him. 

Travis burst out laughing. “Again!” he cried.

Awsten forced his eyes back to normal, slowly turned his head toward Travis, and, without blinking, let out a perfect replica of his previous _mooooo_.

Travis clapped, laughing all over again.

“Travis, what animal is Awsten being?” Lucas inquired.

“Cow!” Travis cried.

“That’s right. Very good.” 

Remaining very serious, Awsten put his lips together and triumphantly blew a silly amount of air out of them. 

Travis squealed with laughter. 

“What animal is that, Travis?” Lucas asked.

“I don’t know!” he giggled. “Something real loud!” 

Awsten waved an arm in front of his face, moving his head up and down and making the trumpet-like noise again. 

“You know that one,” Lucas encouraged. “It’s a big, gray animal.” 

But Travis was laughing so hard that he couldn’t speak, and Awsten couldn’t help but smile. 

“Do you remember it?” Lucas asked.

Through the giggle fit, Travis shook his head. 

Awsten thought Travis couldn’t laugh any more than he already was, but Travis quickly proved him wrong when Awsten started moving his hands back and forth on the sides of his head, trying to mime giant, floppy elephant ears. 

Travis was cracking up, his whole face pink from the hysteria.

Lucas watched Travis incredulously in the mirror every chance he got, and soon, he was laughing, too. “Do you want a hint?” 

Travis didn’t answer; he was doubled over. Even Awsten was grinning.

“El…”

“L M N O P!” 

“Is that an animal?”

Travis let out a shout of laughter. “No!” 

“Do you give up?” Awsten asked, chuckling.

“Yes, yes! I don’t know it!”

“Can I tell him?”

“Please do,” Lucas smiled. 

“I was an elephant.” 

“ELEPHANT!” Travis shouted back, as though he'd figured the answer out on his own.

“Yep, that's it, buddy,” Awsten nodded.

It took nearly a full minute for Travis to stop laughing. In all honesty, Awsten hadn’t thought any of it was funny at all - he'd seen the first noise as embarrassing and just wanted to provide some entertainment when he started the second one. But he was glad to have brought some joy, especially to Travis. The guy deserved it.

Finally, Travis relaxed. He was still smiling a little, but he was at least able to breathe normally. 

Lucas turned left off of the country road they'd been stuck on for a while and onto the paved street that lead to the Peace and Purpose house. 

Awsten glanced at Travis and, ever so quietly, let out two little pig snorts. 

Travis squealed with glee and burst into a new round of giggles. Lucas sagged in his seat, but Awsten could tell even from being stuck in the row behind him that he was smiling.

 

* * *

 

_March 21, 2014_

_I called out of school for the first time last night. That was Tami’s doing as well. Now that I am sitting here in the kitchen, I am not sure that it was the best decision. I suppose that is because it is afternoon now. It certainly did not seem so awful this morning._

_I feel the need to make a correction: Tami did not force me to dial the phone. I was wrong in saying that my remaining at the house was her doing, because it was mine. I was merely swayed. She did make quite the case to me._

_I suppose she was indeed right; if the students are allowed to take a leave for a day or two, why shouldn’t I be? Yes, teaching is a job for me. But the children are (for the most part) legally required to attend their classes. We are all human. Tami told me that I need to remember that in order to take better care of myself._ _And so, following her advice, I have stayed home today._

_I typically wake around five o’clock without an alarm, but I forced myself to stay in bed instead of getting up, and I unintentionally fell back to sleep. I didn’t wake again until after a quarter past eight. It was an odd experience; on most mornings, I go for a walk before the sun rises. Not today._ _By the time I was conscious, school had already been in session for nearly thirty minutes. I fed Tuna (who was awfully cross with me for sleeping in, I must say) and made some tea, and when I managed to check my phone, I had received a few text messages from John questioning my whereabouts. As pathetic as it may sound, it was nice to know that my absence had been noticed._

_(Transcribing all of this feels very egotistical and silly. I find myself hoping above all else that no one ever finds this journal and keeps it as a historical document. Future historians, if you are reading this: please feel free to stop here! My life is quite uninteresting, and I am sure that my unusual speech patterns will distort your perceptions of what the typical man from my time might be like.)_

_Where was I? Oh, yes._

_I feel guilty for ditching my students (there, historians; I put “ditching” in just for you! That’s something that regular men say in my time), but otherwise, it has been an interesting experiment to take a break. I am anxious to get back tomorrow. I do miss John, but I am missing my students even more. I hope they weren’t bothered by my absence._

_As for the rest of today, I plan to contact Lucas about seeing Awsten again and take an evening walk. Since I have some extra time, I was contemplating trying a new lamb recipe, but I am sad to report that I do not have all of the required ingredients. I am afraid that I might see someone from school at the grocery store (historians: in Lakeview, it is altogether impossible to make a trip to the local grocery store without running into someone who knows you by name), so I think I shall have to save it for another day. I am not in the mood to entertain questions about where I have been._

 

* * *

 

 **Peace and Purpose Home for Young Men**  
**March 23, 1:59 PM**

Awsten and one of his counselors were waiting outside on the front step when Geoff pulled up to the house. Awsten got to his feet and waved, and Geoff waved back and shifted the car into park. He pulled on his light jacket and stepped out of the car, starting toward his student. He had a few books sitting on the passenger seat, but those could wait; he figured he’d see what Awsten was up for.

“Hey!” Awsten called, walking toward him. He looked like an entirely new person, and Geoff was relieved. 

“Hello,” Geoff replied with a little smile. 

“You came back.” 

“I did.”

Awsten reached him and leaned in for a hug, much more hesitant this time than the previous two. 

Geoff wrapped both of his arms around him and gave him a little squeeze. “You look well.”

“You, too. Lucas told me you were coming, so I’ve been waiting all day.”

Geoff’s smile grew a bit. “I’m glad to hear that.”

“Yeah. Me and Zakk have been sitting out here forever. He kept telling me you weren’t allowed to come until two o'clock, but he’s really nice, so he let me sit out here and wait for you.”

“The weather’s nice enough,” Geoff noted politely.  
  
Awsten nodded.

“How have you been?” 

“Good. How are you?” 

“Very well.” 

Before Geoff could think of the next thing to say, Awsten blurted, “I’ve been working on The Maze Runner.”

“Oh? Do you like it?”

“Yeah. It’s my favorite book, and I’m not even done with it yet.”

Geoff followed him as he started toward the house. “And what if the ending is terrible?”

“It won’t be. You wouldn’t have given it to me if it was.”

“But suppose it is.” 

Awsten rolled his eyes a little. “I liked the rest of it too much to care.” 

“Hmm,” Geoff murmured, hiding an amused smile. “What do you enjoy about it?”

Awsten shrugged. “It’s weird. Like, how he kind of knows stuff but he also doesn’t. And there’s monsters, and the kids are weird, and like. I don’t like the way they talk and how there are so many people to keep track of. But I get that that’s part of the story.”

“Which section are you in now?” As they got up to the front porch, he paused to smile and greet Zakk. “Hello.”

“Hi. Geoff, right?”

“Yes. How do you do?”

Zakk grinned in amusement, a reaction Geoff had become accustomed to. “How do you do?” he repeated. “I’m Zakk. Nice to meet you, man. Awsten’s been talking about you non-stop for an hour.”

Awsten lightly elbowed him. “Have _not_ ,” he grumbled.

Zakk chuckled and opened the door, going through it and then holding it for the other two. 

“Which section are you in?” Geoff inquired again. He flinched in surprise when Awsten suddenly yelled, “ASH! TRAVIS!”

Both boys scrambled onto the landing.

“Mr. W!” Travis cried, and he rushed down the stairs. 

Geoff had been able to tell easily that Travis had some mild special needs, so he found it extra sweet when the boy barreled across the floor and straight into his chest for a hug. 

“Are you gonna read us a book again?” Travis asked, but he looked to Awsten for the answer.

Awsten nodded.

“Yay!” 

“Hi.”

Geoff looked over to see that it was Ashton who had spoken. “Hello, Ashton,” Geoff greeted with a warm smile.  Ashton seemed surprised and pleased that Geoff had remembered who he was, and Geoff was suddenly glad he’d put so much effort into trying to remember the boys’ names in the car.  “It’s so nice to see all of you. Where is Jawn?”

“He’s not coming,” Awsten responded shortly.

“Oh,” Geoff replied. He was little curious, but Awsten clearly didn’t want to discuss it further. “Shall we sit?”

Geoff watched as Awsten arranged the other two boys on the maroon sofa and then motioned Geoff to take a seat on the blue one. Awsten sat beside him. When Geoff settled, Awsten leaned up to his side and, cupping his hand around Geoff’s ear like a little kid, whispered, “They fought over who got to sit next to me in the car this morning, so I thought that if I put them together, that wouldn’t happen again.”

Geoff chuckled. “Smart,” he commented.

Awsten smiled.

“Alright. Before we begin, Awsten, would you like to catch your friends up on what you’ve been reading?”

“He already did!” Travis said excitedly.

“Yeah, he tells us every day in quiet time now,” Ashton supplied. 

“Lucas says it’s our new meeting!” Travis cried.

Geoff chuckled. “Well, I’m afraid you’ll have to jog my memory,” he told them. “I haven’t spent any time with this one for a few years now, and I’d appreciate some assistance-”

“Thomas went into the maze!” Travis interrupted. “In the night! It was real dark, and them other boys was telling him not to, but he went in!”

“Like an idiot,” Awsten commented dryly.

Geoff laughed. “If he hadn’t, I’m afraid that there wouldn’t be much of a story to tell. What else happened?”

“The monsters light up!” Travis continued. “And they came, and they were gonna eat Thomas and them other two boys, but then they didn’t, and they tricked it and it jumped off the cliff!”

“The council had a meeting, and they were going to put Thomas in jail for a long time, but he defended himself,” Ashton chimed in. “And Minho wanted him to be in charge of the runners, but they said he could be one but not be in charge.”

Awsten nodded. “When they gave Alby the serum, he remembered everything."

“That’s right!” Geoff remembered, lightly snapping his fingers. “He told Thomas that he remembered the girl, and the flare…”

“Uh-huh,” Ashton confirmed. “Teresa. And she kept saying that everything had to end.”

“And she was saying Thomas’ name, too, and then she started talking to him in his head, and she told him that she and Thomas are the ones who did the whole glade thing, and he ran away,” Awsten added.

“Yeah.”

Geoff nodded. “Is that where you stopped?”

“No!” all three of them replied, each in a different tone.

“Well… kind of,” Awsten admitted. 

“No, you said Gally went missing!” Travis protested.

“And they were going to put Thomas in jail,” Ashton agreed. “There was more.”

“That was the end of the chapter.”

Geoff pursed his lips. “I might prefer if Awsten reads the next part on his own, if I do recall correctly…” 

Awsten’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “What? How come?”

“It’s… sensitive,” Geoff answered hesitantly. “I will take a look, but if it is the part that I think it may be, I’d prefer to read you something else. I have some other novels in the car.”

Awsten frowned but passed Geoff the book, which Ashton seemed to have brought from upstairs.

“Ah,” Geoff murmured to himself as he saw numerous pages permanently creased from Awsten dog-earing them. 

Awsten’s eyes went wide as he realized what Geoff was looking at. “Shit, I’m sorry. I-”

“It’s quite alright,” Geoff assured, shifting his gaze to the boy as he spoke. “I’m not personally in the habit of it, but I do understand that folded pages signal that a book is well-loved.” 

Awsten relaxed a little. “I won’t do it again if you don’t want.”

“You are free to mark your place however you like.” (Oh, how Grandmother would lament that advice if she could hear him…)  Geoff scanned the page and saw that, yes, Awsten had stopped right at the part that made such an impact on Geoff. It was one of the few parts of this novel that he remembered with definite clarity. Regretfully, he closed the novel and passed it back to his student. “I’m sorry. But I did bring some extras just in case.” 

“Which ones?” Travis asked, not put off at all.

“Well, I have one about a dog-”

“A dog?!” Travis cried. 

Ashton, on the other hand, was more skeptical. “Does it…?” he asked hesitantly.

“No,” Geoff responded, shaking his head knowingly, “the dog lives through the end of the story. It’s called Because of Winn-Dixie, and-”

“I love that movie!” Ashton cried. 

“I prefer the book,” Geoff admitted with a smile. “Would you like to hear it?”

“Yes, please.”

“Dog book!” Travis cheered.

“Awsten, is that alright with you?”

Awsten shrugged, two of his fingers not-so absently tracing up and down the spine of The Maze Runner. 

Geoff felt a sadness as he watched the boy, but he knew that he had to stand by what he’d said. That part of the story wouldn’t be appropriate for these children. “Awsten, will you accompany me to my car, please?” 

Awsten stood and followed him.

“It is a very sad scene,” Geoff murmured as they exited the front door and headed out to the driveway. “Were it just you, I would discuss it with you beforehand and we would tackle it together. But I’m not sure I’m comfortable-”

“It’s fine.”

“Awsten. I am not comfortable reading this to the three of you. You can handle it. I know that you can. But I am not too sure that your counselors would approve of it.” 

“It’s fine,” Awsten pleaded, a desperate look in his eyes. “They won’t care! Or you can skip it!”

“No, it bears weight in the plot,” Geoff said sadly. “I am very sorry.”

Awsten hung his head. 

“Oh, that won’t do,” Geoff murmured. He had no desire to be the cause of more despair. “If you’d prefer that I leave, I would be willing.” Disappointed, but still willing nonetheless. 

Awsten looked up, seeming almost horrified by the suggestion. “No! I don’t care what book it is. I just want you to read to me.” He stopped short. “Um, us.”

Geoff gave him a small smile. “If you’re sure.”

Awsten nodded quickly.

“Alright, then. I’d like to stay, too.” Reaching into the passenger seat, he mused, “We may be able to finish this entire novel.”

“The one about the dog?”

“Yes.”

“It’s short?”

“I believe The Maze Runner is about four times the length.”

“What?!” 

“Yes. I will do my best to fit it all in; I’d hate to leave you just before the end. Although I have no doubt that you would do an excellent job reading to your friends.” 

“I’m pretty slow,” Awsten countered. 

“That’s quite alright,” Geoff smiled. He closed the car door, and, with a beep, the automobile signaled that it was locked. “I think you’ll enjoy this one. It’s lighthearted, but it has its moments. It’s actually a children’s book.” 

“Okay.”

Together, they walked back inside. 

“We got a new book,” Awsten told Lucas, who was now standing at the bottom of the staircase. 

“Oh, okay. Do you mind if I listen, too?” 

Awsten nodded. “That’s fine.” 

Geoff smiled warmly in agreement. “All are welcome.” 

Lucas nodded gratefully at him and took a seat on one of the bottom steps. 

Geoff sat back down beside Awsten and opened the book to the first page. 

“Who’s that on the front there?” Travis asked, pointing at the drawing of a little girl and a dog on the cover.

“Well, we’ll have to find out, won’t we?” Geoff asked with a secretive smile. Then, with a glance down at the book, he began to read. “My name is India Opal Buloni, and last summer my daddy, the preacher, sent me to the store for a box of macaroni-and-cheese, some white rice, and two tomatoes and I came back with a dog.”  
  
Awsten adjusted so that he was scooted a little closer, peering down at the page. It felt familiar to Geoff, having Awsten follow along over his shoulder. It felt right.

“This is what happened,” Geoff continued, tipping the book a little to the left so that Awsten could have a better view of the text. “I walked into the produce section of the Winn-Dixie grocery store to pick out my two tomatoes and I almost bumped right into the store manager. He was standing there all red-faced, screaming and waving his arms around.”

 

_"Who let a dog in here?" he kept on shouting. "Who let a dirty dog in here?”_

_At first, I didn't see a dog. There were just a lot of vegetables rolling around on the floor, tomatoes and onions and green peppers. And there was what seemed like a whole army of Winn-Dixie employees running around waving their arms just the same way the store manager was waving his._

 

Lucas chuckled, and Geoff looked over to smile at him.

 

_And then the dog came running around the corner. He was a big dog. And ugly. And he looked like he was having a real good time. His tongue was hanging out and he was wagging his tail. He skidded to a stop and smiled right at me._

 

Travis made a gleeful sound, which made Geoff laugh.

 

_I had never before in my life seen a dog smile, but that is what he did. He pulled back his lips and showed me all his teeth. Then he wagged his tail so hard that he knocked some oranges off a display, and they went rolling everywhere, mixing in with the tomatoes and onions and green peppers._

_The manager screamed, "Somebody grab that dog!”_

_The dog went running over to the manager, wagging his tail and smiling. He stood up on his hind legs. You could tell that all he wanted to do was get face to face with the manager and thank him for the good time he was having in the produce department, but somehow he ended up knocking the manager over. And the manager must have been having a bad day, because lying there on the floor, right in front of everybody, he started to cry. The dog leaned over him, real concerned, and licked his face._

_"Please," said the manager. "Somebody call the pound.”_

_"Wait a minute!" I hollered. "That's my dog. Don't call the pound.”_

_All the Winn-Dixie employees turned around and looked at me, and I knew I had done something big. And maybe stupid, too. But I couldn't help it. I couldn't let that dog go to the pound._

_"Here, boy," I said._

_The dog stopped licking the manager's face and put his ears up in the air and looked at me, like he was trying to remember where he knew me from._

_"Here, boy," I said again. And then I figured that the dog was probably just like everybody else in the world, that he would want to get called by a name, only I didn't know what his name was, so I just said the first thing that came into my head. I said, "Here, Winn-Dixie.”_

_And that dog came trotting over to me just like he had been doing it his whole life._

_The manager sat up and gave me a hard stare, like maybe I was making fun of him._

_"It's his name," I said. “Honest."_

_The manager said, "Don't you know not to bring a dog into a grocery store?”_

_"Yes sir," I told him. "He got in by mistake. I'm sorry. It won't happen again._

_"Come on, Winn-Dixie," I said to the dog._

_I started walking and he followed along behind me as I went out of the produce department and down the cereal aisle and past all the cashiers and out the door._

_Once we were safe outside, I checked him over real careful and he didn't look that good. He was big, but skinny; you could see his ribs. And there were bald patches all over him, places where he didn't have any fur at all. Mostly, he looked like a big piece of old brown carpet that had been left out in the rain._

_"You're a mess," I told him. "I bet you don't belong to anybody.”_

_He smiled at me. He did that thing again, where he pulled back his lips and showed me his teeth. He smiled so big that it made him sneeze. It was like he was saying, "I know I'm a mess. Isn't it funny?”_

_It's hard not to immediately fall in love with a dog who has a good sense of humor._

_"Come on," I told him. "Let's see what the preacher has to say about you.”_

_And the two of us, me and Winn-Dixie, started walking home._

 

* * *

 

** Peace and Purpose Home for Young Men - Entry  
March 23, 3:53 PM **

When Lucas got up to answer the phone on page seventy-two, Awsten hardly even noticed. He was listening to Mr. W with such intensity that anything could have happened and he wouldn’t have cared. Otto could have strode right in through the front door wearing face paint and a hula skirt, and Awsten would have motioned him over to come sit on the couch so they could both listen to the story. 

 

_That night, there was a real bad thunderstorm. But what woke me up wasn’t the thunder and lightning. It was Winn-Dixie, whining and butting his head against my bedroom door._

_“Winn-Dixie,” I said. “What are you doing?”_

_He didn’t pay any attention to me. He just kept beating his head against the door and whining and whimpering; and when I got out of bed and went over and put my hand on his head, he was shaking and trembling so hard that it scared me. I knelt down and wrapped my arms around him, but he didn’t turn and look at me or smile or sneeze or wag his tail, or do any normal kind of Winn-Dixie thing; he just kept beating his head against the door and crying and shaking._

_“You want the door open?” I said. “Huh? Is that what you want?” I stood up and opened the door and Winn-Dixie flew through it like something big and ugly and mean was chasing him._

_“Winn-Dixie,” I hissed, “come back here.”_

_I didn’t want him going and waking the preacher up. But it was too late. Winn-Dixie was already at the other end of the trailer, in the preacher’s room. I could tell because there was a sproi-i-ing sound that must have come from Winn-Dixie jumping up on the bed, and then there was a sound from the preacher like he was real surprised. But none of it lasted long, because Winn-Dixie came tearing back out of the preacher’s room, panting and running like crazy. I tried to grab him, but he was going too fast._

_“Opal?” said the preacher. He was standing at the door to his bedroom, and his hair was all kind of wild on top of his head, and he was looking around like he wasn’t sure where he was. “Opal, what’s going on?”_

_“I don’t know,” I told him. But just then there was a huge crack of thunder, one so loud that it shook the whole trailer, and Winn-Dixie came shooting back out of my room and went running right past me and I screamed, “Daddy, watch out!”_

_But the preacher was still confused. He just stood there, and Winn-Dixie came barreling right toward him like he was a bowling ball and the preacher was the only pin left standing, and wham, they both fell to the ground._

_“Uh-oh,” I said._

_“Opal?” said the preacher. He was lying on his stomach, and Winn-Dixie was sitting on top of him, panting and whining._

_“Yes sir,” I said._

_“Opal,” the preacher said again._

_“Yes sir,” I said louder._

_“Do you know what a pathological fear is?”_

_“No sir,” I told him._

_The preacher raised a hand. He rubbed his nose. “Well,” he said, after a minute, “it’s a fear that goes way beyond normal fears. It’s a fear you can’t be talked out of or reasoned out of.”_

_Just then there was another crack of thunder and Winn-Dixie rose straight up in the air like somebody had poked him with something hot. When he hit the floor, he started running. He ran back to my bedroom, and I didn’t even try to catch him; I just got out of his way._

_The preacher lay there on the ground, rubbing his nose. Finally, he sat up. He said, “Opal, I believe Winn-Dixie has a pathological fear of thunderstorms.” And just when he finished his sentence, here came Winn-Dixie again, running to save his life. I got the preacher up off the floor and out of the way just in time._

_There didn’t seem to be a thing we could do for Winn-Dixie to make him feel better, so we just sat there and watched him run back and forth, all terrorized and panting. And every time there was another crack of thunder, Winn-Dixie acted all over again like it was surely the end of the world._

_“The storm won’t last long,” the preacher told me. “And when it’s over, the real Winn-Dixie will come back.”_

_After a while, the storm did end. The rain stopped. And there wasn’t any more lightning, and finally, the last rumble of thunder went away and Winn-Dixie quit running back and forth and came over to where me and the preacher were sitting and cocked his head, like he was saying, “What in the world are you two doing out of bed in the middle of the night?”_

_And then he crept up on the couch with us in this funny way he has, where he gets on the couch an inch at a time, kind of sliding himself onto it, looking off in a different direction, like it’s all happening by accident, like he doesn’t intend to get on the couch, but all of a sudden, there he is._

_And so the three of us sat there. I rubbed Winn-Dixie’s head and scratched him behind the ears the way he liked. And the preacher said, “There are an awful lot of thunderstorms in Florida in the summertime.”_

_“Yes sir,” I said. I was afraid that maybe he would say we couldn’t keep a dog who went crazy with pathological fear every time there was a crack of thunder._

_“We’ll have to keep an eye on him,” the preacher said. He put his arm around Winn-Dixie. “We’ll have to make sure he doesn’t get out during a storm. He might run away. We have to make sure we keep him safe.”_

_“Yes sir,” I said again. All of a sudden it was hard for me to talk. I loved the preacher so much. I loved him because he loved Winn-Dixie. I loved him because he was going to forgive Winn-Dixie for being afraid. But most of all, I loved him for putting his arm around Winn-Dixie like that, like he was already trying to keep him safe._

 

Mr. W looked up from the book then. “Shall we pause for a moment?” he asked. 

“No!” Travis pleaded, and Awsten shook his head.

Mr. W laughed. “Well, that’s the end of a chapter, and I’m afraid I could benefit from a brief trip to the restroom.”

“I can get some snacks,” Zakk suggested, and Awsten turned in surprise to look at him. He hadn’t even known Zakk was there. 

“Can we have chips?” came Jawn’s voice from the landing.

Awsten looked up to see him sitting on the ground with his face pressed against the banister. He wondered how long his roommate had been sitting there. 

“Okay,” Zakk shrugged. “That’s fine with me.” He headed into the kitchen.

Ashton got up off the couch and jogged after Zakk. 

“Do you got a dog in your home?” Travis asked Mr. W, who had set the book down and was in the process of standing up and stretching. 

“No, but I do have a cat.”

“A cat,” Travis echoed happily. “I seen a couple of cats.”

“Her name’s Tuna,” Awsten told him. 

“Like a sandwich?”

“Just like that,” Mr. W smiled, and with a murmur  of, “Please excuse me,” he disappeared toward the bathroom. 

“Tuna is the stuff inside the bread,” Awsten explained since Ashton wasn’t there to do it for him.

“Oh.” He looked to the left. “Lucas?”

“Yes, Travis?”

“I miss Anna.”

Lucas came out from the office doorway and walked over to him. “You do, huh?”

“I been thinking about how she read to me a lot.”

“I remember you told me that.” Lucas sat down on the couch beside Travis. “Do you want to talk about her?” 

Travis nodded.

“Should we go in the office?”

“No. I just want to say to you how I miss her and how she bring-ed me lots of books.”

“You two enjoyed spending time together, didn’t you?”

Travis nodded again. 

“ _Tra_ -vis! _Aw_ -sten!” Ashton called. “What chips do you want?” 

“The red bag!” Travis yelled back, and he got up and scurried into the kitchen.

“Who’s Anna?” Awsten curiously asked Lucas, but Lucas just smiled and said, “You’d better go get your snack.”

Soon, they were all settled back in. Mr. W declined the food but accepted the glass of water that Zakk offered, and that made Awsten feel glad. He wanted to have something to give to Mr. W, but he didn’t have much of anything at the group home. So the glass of water would have to do. Awsten brought it to Mr. W himself.

Jawn started to go back up the stairs, but Awsten called after him. 

“Jawn.”

He turned. 

Awsten nodded toward the maroon couch. Jawn’s expression stayed neutral, but he made his way to sit beside Ashton. 

Mr. W smiled - first at Jawn, then at Awsten - and kept reading.

 

* * *

 

_I was all settled in and ready for a good story when the door banged and pinch-faced Amanda Wilkinson came into the library. Winn-Dixie sat up and stared at her. He tried out a smile on her, but she didn’t smile back and so he lay down again._

_“I’m ready for another book,” Amanda said, slamming her book down on Miss Franny’s desk._

_“Well,” said Miss Franny, “maybe you wouldn’t mind waiting. I am telling India Opal a story about my great-grandfather. You are, of course, more than welcome to listen. It will be just one minute.”_

_Amanda sighed a real big dramatic sigh and stared past me. She pretended like she wasn’t interested, but she was, I could tell._

_“Come sit over here,” said Miss Franny._

_“I’ll stand, thank you,” said Amanda._

_“Suit yourself,” Miss Franny shrugged. “Now where was I? Oh, yes. Littmus. Littmus W. Block. Littmus W. Block was just a boy when the firing on Fort Sumter occurred.”_

_“Fort Sumter?” I said._

_“It was the firing on Fort Sumter that started the war,” said Amanda._

_“Okay,” I said. I shrugged._

_“Well, Littmus was fourteen years old. He was strong and big, but he was still just a boy. His daddy, Artley W. Block, had already enlisted, and Littmus told his mama that he could not stand by and let the South get beat, and so he went to fight, too.” Miss Franny looked around the library and then she whispered, “Men and boys always want to fight. They are always looking for a reason to go to war. It is the saddest thing. They have this abiding notion that war is fun. And no history lesson will convince them differently._

_“Anyway, Littmus went and enlisted. He lied about his age. Yes ma’am. Like I said, he was a big boy. And the army took him, and Littmus went off to war, just like that. Left behind his mother and three sisters. He went off to be a hero. But he soon found out the truth.” Miss Franny closed her eyes and shook her head._

_“What truth?” I asked her._

_“Why, that war is hell,” Miss Franny said with her eyes still closed. “Pure hell.”_

_“Hell is a cuss word,” said Amanda. I stole a look at her. Her face was pinched up even more than usual._

_“War,” said Miss Franny with her eyes still closed, “should be a cuss word, too.” She shook her head and opened her eyes. She pointed at me and then she pointed at Amanda. “You, neither of you, can imagine.”_

_“No ma’am!” Amanda and me said at exactly the same time. We looked real quick at each other and then back at Miss Franny._

_“You cannot imagine. Littmus was hungry all the time. And he was covered with all manner of vermin; fleas and lice. And in the winter, he was so cold he thought for sure he would freeze to death. And in the summer, why there’s nothing worse than war in the summertime. It stinks so. And the only thing that made Littmus forget that he was hungry and itchy and hot or cold was that he was getting shot at. And he got shot at quite a bit. And he was nothing more than a child.”_

_“Did he get killed?” I asked Miss Franny._

_“Good grief,” said Amanda. She rolled her eyes._

_“Now, Opal,” Miss Franny said, “I wouldn’t be standing in this room telling this story if he was killed. I wouldn’t exist. No ma’am. He had to live. But he was a changed man. Yes ma’am. A changed man. He walked back home when the war was over. He walked from Virginia all the way back to Georgia. He didn’t have a horse. Nobody had a horse except for the Yankees. He walked. And when he got home, there was no home there.”_

_“Where was it?” I asked her. I didn’t care if Amanda thought I was stupid. I wanted to know._

_“Why,” Miss Franny shouted so loud that Winn-Dixie and Amanda Wilkinson and me all jumped, “the Yankees burned it! Yes ma’am. Burned it to the ground.”_

_“What about his sisters?” Amanda asked. She moved around the desk and came and sat on the floor. She looked up at Miss Franny. “What happened to them?”_

_“Dead. Dead of typhoid fever.”_

_“Oh no,” Amanda said in a real soft voice._

_“And his mama?” I whispered._

_“Dead, too.”_

_“And his father?” Amanda asked. “What happened to him?”_

_“He died on the battlefield.”_

_“Littmus was an orphan?” I asked._

_“Yes ma’am,” said Miss Franny Block. “Littmus was an orphan.”_

_“This is a sad story,” I told Miss Franny._

_“It sure is,” said Amanda. I was amazed that she was agreeing with me about something._

_“I am not done yet,” Miss Franny said._

_Winn-Dixie started to snore, and I nudged him with my foot to try to make him quit. I wanted to hear the rest of the story. It was important to me to hear how Littmus survived after losing everything he loved._

_“Well, Littmus came home from the war,” said Miss Franny as she went on with her story, “and found himself alone. And he sat down on what used to be the front step of his house, and he cried and cried. He cried just like a baby. He missed his mama and he missed his daddy and he missed his sisters and he missed the boy he used to be. When he finally finished crying, he had the strangest sensation. He felt like he wanted something sweet. He wanted a piece of candy. He hadn’t had a piece of candy in years. And it was right then that he made a decision. Yes ma’am. Littmus W. Block figured the world was a sorry affair and that it had enough ugly things in it and what he was going to do was concentrate on putting something sweet in it. He got up and started walking. He walked all the way to Florida. And the whole time he was walking, he was planning.”_

_“Planning what?” I asked._

_“Why, planning the candy factory.”_

_“Did he build it?” I asked._

_“Of course he did. It’s still standing out on Fairville Road.”_

_“That old building?” said Amanda. “That big spooky one?”_

_“It is not spooky,” said Miss Franny. “It was the birthplace of the family fortune. It was there that my great-grandfather manufactured the Littmus Lozenge, a candy that was famous the world over.”_

_“I’ve never heard of it,” said Amanda._

_“Me neither,” I said._

_“Well,” said Miss Franny, “they aren’t made anymore. The world, it seems, lost its appetite for Littmus Lozenges. But I still happen to have a few.” She opened the top drawer of her desk. It was full of candy. She opened the drawer below that. It was full of candy, too. Miss Franny Block’s whole desk was full of candy._

_“Would you care for a Littmus Lozenge?” she asked Amanda and me._

_“Yes, please,” said Amanda._

_“Sure,” I said. “Can Winn-Dixie have one, too?”_

_“I have never known a dog that cared for hard candy,” said Miss Franny, “but he is welcome to try one.”_

_Miss Franny gave Amanda one Littmus Lozenge and me two. I unwrapped one and held it out to Winn-Dixie. He sat up and sniffed it and wagged his tail and took the candy from between my fingers real gentle. He tried to chew on it, and when that didn’t work, he just swallowed the whole thing in one big gulp. Then he wagged his tail at me and lay back down._

_I ate my Littmus Lozenge slow. It tasted good. It tasted like root beer and strawberry and something else I didn’t have a name for, something that made me feel kind of sad. I looked over at Amanda. She was sucking on her candy and thinking hard._

_“Do you like it?” Miss Franny asked me._

_“Yes ma’am,” I told her._

_“What about you, Amanda? Do you like the Littmus Lozenge?”_

_“Yes ma’am,” she said. “But it makes me think of things I feel sad about.”_

_I wondered what in the world Amanda Wilkinson had to feel sad about. She wasn’t new to town. She had a mama and a daddy. I had seen her with them in church._

_“There’s a secret ingredient in there,” Miss Franny said._

_“I know it,” I told her. “I can taste it. What is it?”_

_“Sorrow,” Miss Franny said. “Not everybody can taste it. Children, especially, seem to have a hard time knowing it’s there.”_

_“I taste it,” I said._

_“Me, too,” said Amanda._

_“Well, then,” Miss Franny said, “you’ve probably both had your share of sadness.”_

 

* * *

 

 **Peace and Purpose Home for Young Men - Entry**  
**March 23, 5:40 PM**

“I have never,” Lucas said quietly to Mr. W, “seen Travis sit so still for so long.” He smiled. “Actually, I’ve never seen _any_ of them sit so still for so long. Thank you so much.”

“No, thank _you_ ,” Mr. W murmured back. “I enjoyed that thoroughly.”

“Our gentlemen did, too.” 

Awsten lightly pushed his way between them and hugged Mr. W around the stomach. “That was the best book ever.” 

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Mr. W responded as he hugged him back.

“Thanks for reading it.” 

“You are very welcome, Awsten.”

Awsten looked up at Lucas with pleading eyes. “Can Mr. W stay for dinner?”

“No. He’s already stayed almost an hour longer than he planned. I’m sure he has lots of things to do at home.”

“Yes, I need to go check on Tuna,” Mr. W said. “It’ll be her dinnertime soon.” 

“It’s your dinnertime soon, too,” Lucas told Awsten pointedly. “You need to go wash your hands so we can start cooking.”

Just then, the sink turned on, and Travis’ quiet singing voice floated out of the kitchen. “Winn-Diiiixie, Winn-Diiiixie, Winn-Diiiixie…”

Awsten watched as Mr. W smiled over at the sound. 

“He’ll be talking about it for weeks,” Lucas sighed, but he didn’t look annoyed. 

“Please, will you come back? Please?” Awsten begged his teacher as the three of them walked to the front door.

“If you’ll have me, I would love to return.” 

Lucas said, “Just send me an email so I have documentation, and then I can put you on the calendar.”

“Yessss,” Awsten whispered, grinning. He leaned forward and hugged Mr. W again. 

“Awsten, what do you say?” Lucas prompted.

“Thank you!” 

Mr. W smiled. “You are very welcome,” he repeated. “I will see you soon.” 

Awsten nodded. “Bye!”

“Goodbye.” With a wave, Mr. W exited the house and walked toward his car, reaching into his pocket for his keys. 

Awsten didn’t watch him drive away; he was too excited to dash to the kitchen and announce, “Guys! Mr. W’s coming back next week!”

 

* * *

 

 **Peace and Purpose Home for Young Men - Jawn and Awsten's Room**  
**March 23, 9:31 PM**

“Please?”

“No, Travis. Goodnight.”

“But he left the book! Please, Lucas?”

“We can talk about it tomorrow. Right now, it is bedtime.”

“He said I could read it whenever I wanted. I want to read it _now._ ” 

“He meant when you had free time,” Lucas clarified, “and regardless, he is not in charge here.”

“Hmph!”

“Goodnight, Travis. Goodnight, Ashton.”

“Goodnight!” Ashton piped up.

“Goodnight. I will see you both in the morning.” Lucas headed into his room. As soon as the door closed, Awsten dug under his bed for the flashlight from bible study. 

Jawn groaned. 

“Oh, shut up,” Awsten muttered. “I just wanna look at one part.”

“I just wanna _sleep_.”

“Then sleep.”

Jawn huffed exaggeratedly as he turned over in bed. 

Awsten rolled his eyes and found his place. With the flashlight safely in one hand and the book propped open in the other, Awsten burrowed down under the covers and began to read the part Mr. W had refused to.

 

_Chuck continued talking, taking a completely unexpected turn. “Thomas, I’m kinda messed up, man. It’s weird to feel sad and homesick, but have no idea what it is you wish you could go back to, ya know? All I know is I don’t want to be here. I want to go back to my family. Whatever’s there, whatever I was taken from. I wanna remember.”_

_Thomas was a little surprised. He’d never heard Chuck say something so deep and so true. “I know what you mean,” he murmured._

_Chuck was too short for his eyes to reach where Thomas could see them as he spoke, but from his next statement, Thomas imagined them filling with a bleak sadness, maybe even tears. “I used to cry. Every night.”_

_This made thoughts of Alby leave Thomas’s mind. “Yeah?”_

_“Like a pants-wettin’ baby. Almost till the day you got here. Then I just got used to it, I guess. This became home, even though we spend every day hoping to get out.”_

_“I’ve only cried once since showing up, but that was after almost getting eaten alive. I’m probably just a shallow shuck-face.” Thomas might not have admitted it if Chuck hadn’t opened up._

_“You cried?” he heard Chuck say through the window. “Then?”_

_“Yeah. When the last one finally fell over the Cliff, I broke down and sobbed till my throat and chest hurt.” Thomas remembered all too well. “Everything crushed in on me at once. Sure made me feel better —don’t feel bad about crying. Ever.”_

_“Kinda does make ya feel better, huh? Weird how that works.”_

_A few minutes passed in silence. Thomas found himself hoping Chuck wouldn’t leave._

_“Hey, Thomas?” Chuck asked._

_“Still here.”_

_“Do you think I have parents? Real parents?”_

_Thomas laughed, mostly to push away the sudden surge of sadness the statement caused. “Of course you do, shank. You need me to explain the birds and bees?” Thomas’s heart hurt — he could remember getting that lecture but not who’d given it to him._

_“That’s not what I meant,” Chuck said, his voice completely devoid of cheer. It was low and bleak, almost a mumble. “Most of the guys who’ve gone through the Changing remember terrible things they won’t even talk about, which makes me doubt I have anything good back home. So, I mean, you think it’s really possible I have a mom and a dad out in the world somewhere, missing me? Do you think they cry at night?”_

_Thomas was completely shocked to realize his eyes had filled with tears. Life had been so crazy since he’d arrived, he’d never really thought of the Gladers as real people with real families, missing them. It was strange, but he hadn’t even really thought of himself that way. Only about what it all meant, who’d sent them there, how they’d ever get out._

_For the first time, he felt something for Chuck that made him so angry he wanted to kill somebody. The boy should be in school, in a home, playing with neighborhood kids. He deserved to go home at night to a family who loved him, worried about him. A mom who made him take a shower every day and a dad who helped him with homework._

_Thomas hated the people who’d taken this poor, innocent kid from his family. He hated them with a passion he didn’t know a human could feel. He wanted them dead, tortured, even. He wanted Chuck to be happy. But happiness had been ripped from their lives. Love had been ripped from their lives._

_“Listen to me, Chuck.” Thomas paused, calming down as much as he could, making sure his voice didn’t crack. “I’m sure you have parents. I know it. Sounds terrible, but I bet your mom is sitting in your room right now, holding your pillow, looking out at the world that stole you from her. And yeah, I bet she’s crying. Hard. Puffy-eyed, snotty-nosed crying. The real deal.”_

_Chuck didn’t say anything, but Thomas thought he heard the slightest of sniffles._

_“Don’t give up, Chuck. We’re gonna solve this thing, get out of here. I’m a Runner now—I promise on my life I’ll get you back to that room of yours. Make your mom quit crying.” And Thomas meant it. He felt it burn in his heart._

_“Hope you’re right,” Chuck said with a shaky voice. He showed a thumbs-up sign in the window, then walked away._

_Thomas stood up to pace around the little room, fuming with an intense desire to keep his promise. “I swear, Chuck,” he whispered to no one. “I swear I’ll get you back home.”_

 

Awsten slowly closed the book and swiped at his nose, which was suddenly a little tingly. He missed Otto’s parents. He wanted so badly for Ashton and Travis to be able to turn back the clock, to be given a better shot. He thought about what Jawn’s deal could be and wondered why he instantly became furious when Lucas barely even mentioned his family. He contemplated whether Hell was real and whether his mom was there (if it was and she was, did that mean there was a God?). And above all, he missed Otto, he missed Otto, he missed Otto.

Desperate to get the thoughts out of his head, Awsten reached back under his bed, back behind the leg of the frame, and retrieved the folded piece of paper he’d stuffed there.

_Awsten_ , it began in Jawn’s messy scrawl. _I’m sorry for not turning myself in. We both fucked up. But we can start over if you’re cool with that. I want to. If you want to too, just tell me and we can act like none of it happened. -J_

_Act like none of it happened?_ Awsten thought. He shut off the mini flashlight. “We can’t just act like none of it happened,” he scoffed aloud. 

“What?” Jawn grumbled tiredly. “Would you just shut up? God, Cal never used to fuck with my sleep.” 

“We can’t act like none of it happened,” Awsten said again. 

Jawn was quiet for a moment. Then, understanding, he replied, “Oh.”

“You know?”

“Yeah, fine. Whatever.” 

Awsten could hear the frustration in Jawn’s tone. He seemed genuinely upset, and not about the sleep thing. 

“I accept your apology, though,” Awsten admitted.

“Hooray,” Jawn responded sarcastically. 

“ _Hey_ ,” Awsten said sharply. _That’s supposed to mean something,_ he wanted to add, but he didn’t want to sound stupid. He rolled his eyes again instead and laid down in bed. As he got comfortable under the covers, he wished for the dream about the bridge again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://miafic.tumblr.com/


	20. The Kids Aren't Alright

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This whole thing has been outlined! I'm expecting to write two more chapters after this one before possibly moving onto a sequel :)
> 
> ~ HEADS UP - two slurs are used in this (F and R) in two different scenes~

** Peace and Purpose Home for Young Men - Entry  
March 27, 2:02 PM **

“They’re here!” Awsten cried. He knew that no one else cared that his family was arriving - well, except maybe Travis, who was pressed up against the glass just like he was, hoping for a hug and a brownie from ‘that mama’ - but he couldn’t help but announce their presence anyway. 

“Cool,” Zakk replied. He came from the kitchen toward the front door while Travis began bouncing up and down as the pickup truck stopped in the driveway. Through a mouthful of fruit snacks, Zakk reminded, “We need to wait til they come up to the door. And T, let Awsten say hi to them first, okay?” 

“I remember!” Travis chirped.

Otto emerged from the car, and Awsten’s heart did a somersault in his chest. He watched as Otto stood off to the side, waiting for his parents, but Awsten didn’t want one more minute to pass without his best friend by his side, so he knocked sharply on the window a few times to get Otto’s attention. 

Otto whipped around, and a wide grin split across his face. He rushed up toward the house, leaving his parents abandoned at the car. 

When Zakk opened the door, the two boys flew into each other’s arms. Awsten grabbed onto Otto as hard as he could, relieved to have his favorite person back by his side. It felt so good to have Otto squeezing him just as tightly. Otto had missed him - maybe not as much as Awsten had been missing Otto, but enough that Awsten could tell from the way Otto was hugging him. 

He smushed his face into Otto’s shoulder, relishing in the feeling of comfort and security and familiarity for the first time in a long time. 

“Missed you so much,” Otto muttered, only for Awsten’s ears. 

Awsten nodded in agreement and hugged him tighter.

“Aw, my sweet boys,” came a soft voice, and Awsten looked up to see Mom standing on the front step with Otto’s dad. 

Awsten smiled at them but didn’t let go of his best friend. 

Mom didn’t seem to mind; she came forward and cupped a hand around his cheek. As she bent down to kiss his forehead, she murmured, “Hi, sweetie. Oh, we missed you every day.” 

“I missed you, too.” 

When Otto and Awsten finally pulled apart, Mrs. Wood announced, “My turn!” and enveloped Awsten in a warm embrace. As he breathed in, the sweet scent of her perfume filled his nostrils. He leaned against her and closed his eyes, and he laughed as she began to rapidly kiss him all over his face like she’d done when he was a child. “No!” he cried, trying to push her away. “Mom, stop!”

“Scuuuuse me, Miss,” Travis said softly.

Awsten chuckled in relief as Mrs. Wood turned her attention away from attacking him with kisses. “Travis wants to know if you brought any sweets for him,” he explained, wiping at his cheeks and forehead in case there was any lipstick staining his skin. 

“Why, of course I did,” Mrs. Wood said to Travis with a smile.  


“Yay! Thank you!” he cheered, shaking his hands excitedly in the air. 

“He also asked if he could have a hug,” Awsten said, and Travis shyly ducked his head. 

“You can always have a hug, Travis. Come here, honey.” 

They all watched as Mrs. Wood wrapped Travis up, rubbed his back, and kissed his hair. He smiled contentedly, and Awsten tipped his head against Otto’s shoulder and shut his eyes. He relaxed as he felt Otto’s arm come up to rest around his shoulders, and he turned inward to hug his best friend again. 

“You’re a real good mama,” Travis told Mrs. Wood.

Awsten and Otto nodded in affirmation. 

Mrs. Wood’s hand fluttered to her heart, and she blushed. “You’re all so sweet,” she smiled.

 

* * *

  
**Peace and Purpose Home for Young Men - Game Room**  
**March 27, 2:07 PM**

“So, okay, tell me what the fuck is going on with you,” Awsten instructed as soon as Otto had closed the door. 

They both settled on the couch, facing each other with their legs side by side on the cushions. 

“Which part?” Otto sighed.

“All of it. I wanna know everything.” 

“I don’t even know where to start. I guess, um… it started getting bad once you left. Like, the day you left. Cause Mom and Dad didn’t tell me they were bringing you here; they just did it. And I was pissed. Like, I yelled at them and stuff.”

Awsten raised his eyebrows.

Otto nodded grimly. “Yeah. I’ve… kind of been yelling at them a lot.”

“What?” Awsten asked incredulously. He didn’t think he’d ever heard Otto yell one time in his life. 

“Apparently I’m ‘agitated’ and ‘irritable’ and ‘lashing out,’” he explained, using air quotes as he spoke. 

“Because of… what happened at school?”

“I guess,” he confirmed, sighing again. “It’s weird, cause it doesn’t feel like it in the moment. Like, I’m not consciously thinking about the lockdown or anything. But I guess it fucked me up more than I thought. They’re calling it hyperarousal.”

Awsten would have cracked some dick joke, but Otto seemed pretty upset, so he refrained. “What does that mean?”

“It just means I’m… She said it’s like my brain is always worried something’s gonna happen again, so it tries to protect me by giving me anxiety all the time so I’m on alert. I can’t sleep, and I’m always like…” He shrugged dismissively.

“She?” Awsten repeated.

“Huh?”

“You said ‘she said.’”

“Oh. My therapist.”

“Oh.” 

“Yeah. But like, I see a psychiatrist, too, so I’m taking sleeping pills and anti-anxiety medication now. And that’s helping, but I’m still yelling at my parents multiple times a day and slamming doors and cussing. I feel awful about it. They’re - you know, they’re trying really hard to understand it. They’ve been great, really patient and supportive and stuff, but it’s hard for them. They say it’s not, but I can tell it is. Dad hates it a lot, even more than Mom.” Otto’s volume lowered. “Dad yells back at me sometimes. Mom just cries. And I feel like a monster, because ninety percent of the time, I don’t even know what the hell I’m so mad about.” 

Awsten nodded, listening intently. 

“And it's not just a little bit. I get  _so mad_. I don’t understand it, but I can’t stop it, either. The medicine really has been helping, though. It makes me feel floaty and strange, but it’s worth it to not be so mean.” Otto ran his hands over his hair. “Did they put you on anything?” 

Awsten shook his head. 

“That’s weird. It helps. Maybe you should ask somebody about it.”

“Maybe,” Awsten echoed halfheartedly. 

“The other thing is that I, um, cry all the time,” Otto confessed awkwardly. 

“That’s okay,” Awsten responded quickly, thinking back to The Maze Runner. 

Otto looked up at him.

“I cry sometimes, too.” 

“Yeah?”

Awsten nodded. 

Otto forced a sad smile. “They sent me home from school the other day cause I couldn’t stop. I started at lunch - for literally no reason - and after a while, Alex went to the teacher table and told Mr. W, and Mr. W came and got me and took me to the nurse, and she sent me home. Mom had to come pick me up like in elementary school. And the whole way home, I just kept crying and saying I was sorry for everything. She made me get in bed even though I can't sleep. She didn’t know what to do with me.” He shook his head. “I feel so _weak_ , you know? Like, I - I didn’t go through anything even close to what you went through, and you’re doing fine.”

Awsten scoffed and then let out a real laugh. “Dude. I’m not doing fucking fine. We all went through a lot, okay? But - come on. Don’t kid yourself, okay? I’m not fucking fine.”

Otto stared at him for a long moment, a strange expression on his face.

“What?” Awsten asked nervously. 

“Nothing,” Otto shakily responded. “Nothing, I’m just…” He shrugged and looked away, but Awsten could see the tears shining in his eyes. 

“Hey,” he murmured, and Otto laughed emptily. “Otto.”

“It’s fine,” Otto whispered, but his lips moved the wrong way, and Awsten knew before it even started that Otto was going into one of his crying spells. 

Awsten scooted forward on the couch so he could wrap his arms around him.

“I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m okay,” Otto kept repeating.

Awsten was pretty sure that Otto was talking to himself, not to Awsten, so Awsten didn’t say anything. Then the tears started, and Awsten pressed Otto closer.

“I miss you, you know?” Otto said, a light sob escaping with the words. “I wish you were home. I need you. I know you’re… but I need you.”

“You know I’m what?” Awsten asked softly.

“Messed up.” 

Awsten chuckled. “You got that right, man.” 

Otto made a sad sound and then started to cry harder. “See, that’s what I mean. I don’t - my mom just… she means well, trying to help me with everything, but it’s not what I need. She’s so serious all the time. I wish you were home, even if I could only see you at school. I know everything would be better.” 

Awsten was suddenly filled with an immense amount of guilt. He’d always needed Otto, and Otto had always, _always_ been there. And for the first time, Otto needed him, too. But Awsten wasn’t even allowed to text him.

“And then I feel worse,” Otto admitted, beginning to lose control of himself, “because I know that you - you had it so much harder than me, and I didn’t even do anything. I just sat there, and you-”

“Otto,” Awsten interrupted, “we all thought that we were going to die. Every person in that school believed that.” Awsten hadn’t thought through that previously, but having Otto in front of him made it crystal clear. Every one of those kids and teachers and administrators probably thought that their life was over.

“But you did something about it. You risked your life for us. Awsten, you were brave, and you stood up to him, and you saved us.” He sobbed loudly. “You were the hero.”

“I’m not a fucking hero, Otto,” Awsten said dangerously as images of Michael’s blood swam in his mind. “Don’t even say that. And besides, I didn’t have a choice.” 

Otto shook his head. “We always have a choice.”

“Okay, Spiderman,” Awsten muttered. 

“It’s not funny!” Otto cried, shoving roughly at Awsten’s shoulder. 

Awsten sat back and blinked at him in surprise.

Otto made a noise of anguish before burying his face in his hands, crying louder. “See?!” he cried. “I’m sorry!” 

“Shh,” Awsten soothed, leaning back in and wrapping Otto up in another hug. “You didn’t mean it.”

“But what if I do?” he protested, not removing his hands from his face. “What if I’m stuck like this forever, or what if I’ve really been like this the whole time and it just took the accident to bring it out?”

_The accident_. God, Awsten really loved Otto, more even in this moment than he had for a while. But what Michael did was no accident.

“That’s not true, and you know it,” Awsten said into Otto’s ear in a low voice. “You’re one of the nicest people I’ve ever fucking met.”

The door opened then, and Mom came in. Awsten glanced at her worriedly as she made a beeline for Otto. 

“Honey?”

“I’m fine,” Otto snapped, not looking up. “Go away. I’m talking to Awsten.” 

Awsten’s eyes widened; it was one thing hearing Otto say that he’d been rude to his parents, but it was completely different seeing it in practice. 

“Baby, do you want some more of your medica-”

“No.”

Mrs. Wood pursed her lips and nodded. “Okay.” Then, looking at Awsten - although Otto wouldn’t know that - she added, “We’re right outside if you-”

“God, Mom, would you just _leave_?!” Otto yelled.

Mrs. Wood flinched but obeyed, and suddenly Awsten understood why Otto’s dad would retaliate. 

“Otto,” Awsten said quietly once the door was shut again. 

“I know. I’m the worst person in the world,” Otto sobbed. 

Awsten let out a gentle sigh. “You’re not. I promise, you’re not.” 

Otto buried his face in Awsten’s shoulder. “This is what I do to them. Every day. I do it to Alex, too. I can’t help it, and I don’t know why, and I _hate_ it!”

“This sucks,” Awsten said frankly as he slowly skimmed a hand up and down Otto’s back, “and it’s not you, but you know what Lucas says? He says it’s only been two weeks. Three now, I guess. And that feels like a long time, but it’s not. Not really. He says that as more time passes, it’ll get easier.” 

“Do you believe him?” Otto asked with a sniffle. He looked up at Awsten with watery, red eyes.

“Yeah,” Awsten decided. “I do.” 

 

* * *

** Peace and Purpose Home for Young Men  
April 1, 6:30 AM **

“Good morning, gentlemen! Rise and shine! Now, as we discussed last night, I expect nothing out of the ordinary today, so-”

Lucas was cut off by a quiet giggle. 

Awsten couldn’t see Lucas through the doorway like he usually could, but he knew that this morning, someone else had eyes on him.

“Travis?” Lucas asked, squinting into the dark room across the landing. 

There came another giggle. 

“Travis, what are you doing in there?” 

In the room beside Lucas’, Awsten looked across into the other bed, where Ashton was grinning at him. Awsten grinned back. 

“Why are you in Awsten’s bed?” Lucas demanded, crossing the space to stop in Awsten and Jawn’s doorway.

“April fool!" he crowed. Then, brightly, "It was Awsten’s idea!” 

Awsten groaned inwardly.

“Did you sleep here?”

“Uh-huh!”

“And where is Awsten now?”

Travis pointed. “In my bed!” 

“Awsten?” Lucas asked sternly. 

“Yes, sir?” Awsten called, not lifting his head from the pillow.

“What did we talk about yesterday?”

And then suddenly, there was a new voice. “Oh, come on, Lucas. They’re just playing.” 

“I told them _no_ pranks.”

“And they’re teenage boys - they can’t help it. We go through this every year. At least it wasn’t as bad as the time wh-”

“So long as this is the only one,” Lucas said warningly, looking between both rooms, “I am going to let it slide. But no one will be switching beds again. Ever. Is that clear?”

“Clear,” came the murmur from the boys.

“Good. Now, let’s get up and get a move on. We’ve got breakfast and then school, and after that, we’re going to FutureFaith to help Jon set up for Holy Week.”

From the other room, Awsten heard Jawn grumble, “That’s not for two weeks.”

“Yes, but it’s a lot of work, and he could use our help,” Lucas reminded. “And if I remember correctly, _someone_ had an awful lot of fun with Advent to be complaining.”

“Well, that was because-” Jawn began, but Lucas held up a hand to stop him.

“Up. Let’s go.” 

“I had another idea,” Awsten whispered to Jawn in the bathroom a moment later, “but I need you if I’m really gonna pull it off.” 

“Lucas _just said_ no more pranks.” 

“It’s harmless. I swear.”

Jawn sighed. “Aren’t you the one who was freaking a couple weeks ago about me breaking the rules?” 

“That was different,” Awsten argued, blowing out a breath. “Come on, will you help me or not?” 

Jawn studied him through narrow eyes. “What’s the plan?” 

Awsten grinned, cupped a hand around Jawn’s ear, and began to whisper.

 

* * *

**Peace and Purpose Home for Young Men**  
**April 1, 8:07 AM**

A few minutes after the boys were sent to school, the quiet downstairs was disrupted by a loud HOOOONNNNKKKKKKK!!!

Awsten flinched, and all the boys' heads whipped toward the office.

“ARGHHHH!” 

The yell was followed by a loud, hysterical shout of laughter from upstairs.

“ZAKK!” Lucas bellowed.

“I didn’t do it!” Zakk called, still laughing. 

“Oh, this again?” Ryan sighed with a roll of his eyes. 

Awsten looked at Brendon, who had a twinkle in his eye. Ashton was giggling behind the hand pressed over his mouth.

“Who else would ever put an _airhorn_ on my _chair?!_ ” Lucas cried, and there was a quick pitter-patter of feet as he dashed from the office and toward the stairs. “The boys can’t go to Walmart, Zachary! They don’t have a car! They don’t even have any money!”

“No!” Zakk cried, sounding delighted at the fact that Lucas was actually angry. His door slammed shut, but Lucas flung it open only seconds later.

“Every year! _Every year,_ and I always think, ‘oh, he won’t do it. He’s grown out of it.’ But he did! _You_ did!”

“How didn’t you see it?” Zakk asked through a wave of hysterical laughter. “I didn’t even hi-” He cut himself off with a yelp. “Lucas!”

“Oh, it’s on. It is _on._ ” 

“You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I would. I _hate_ April Fool’s Day, and you-!” Awsten imagined Lucas scowling and pointing a finger in Zakk’s face. “You are making me participate.”

“No one can ‘make' you do anyth-” He yelped again. _“Lucas!”_

Ashton looked at the other boys and whispered excitedly, “This is gonna be good.”

 

* * *

**Peace and Purpose Home for Young Men - School Room**  
**April 1,**   **12:55 PM**

“Travis, you can’t tell, okay?” Ashton said quietly. “It’s a secret.” 

“Why?”

It was Awsten who answered. “Because we might-”

“Shut up! He’s coming!” Jawn hissed. 

The three boys straightened up and turned to face Lucas with big smiles on their faces. Travis stood behind them looking confused. 

“Hi,” Lucas said shortly. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared at them. “What are you gentlemen up to?”

“Um…”

“Nothing!” Awsten chirped.

“Nothing,” Lucas echoed dryly.

“Nothing,” Jawn added, nodding. 

“Travis?” 

All three of the boys turned around and stared at him. 

“I… I don’t know,” Travis said slowly, looking between them and then over at Lucas.

“What were you all just talking about?”

Travis shrugged his shoulders. 

“Hm.” Then to all of them, he said firmly, “ _No more pranks._ ” 

They all nodded. As soon as Lucas walked away, they all exhaled. 

“Good job,” Awsten whispered to them all, grinning. “He’ll never figure it out.” 

Ashton laughed, and Jawn and Awsten slapped a high-five. But little did they know, Lucas had stopped just around the corner and was still listening. 

“Who gets to keep it in their room?” Travis wondered. 

“Me and Jawn,” Awsten responded immediately. “It was my idea, and-”

“That’s not fair!” Travis cried.

“Shh!” Ashton whispered loudly.

Everyone froze, and Awsten waited a moment to make sure that the house stayed quiet before repeating in a hushed voice, “It was _my_ idea. You can come see it whenever you want.” 

“Hmph!” Travis protested. 

“You wanna come play with him now?” Jawn asked. 

“Oh-kayyy,” Travis said glumly, and he followed Jawn out of the room. 

As Awsten exited after them, he thought he caught a flash of blonde hair quickly disappearing into the dining room.

 

* * *

**Peace and Purpose Home for Young Men - Jawn and Awsten's room**  
**April 1, 4:39 PM**

“Guys!” Zakk yelled, launching through the door of Jawn and Awsten’s room during quiet time. “Quick! I need you to help me blow all of these up before Lucas gets back!”

Excitedly, Jawn looked up from the piece of paper he was sketching on and up at Zakk, but then he saw Zakk dumping a massive pile of multicolored balloons out of a small, plastic bag. “Awwww, man. I thought you meant like an explosion!” he complained.

“Come on,” Zakk pleaded desperately. “I have this whole thing planned, but I’m never gonna be able to do it on my own. I won’t let you guys get in trouble. Promise. Please?”

“What are you gonna do with them?” Awsten asked curiously. 

“You’ll see.” 

Awsten shrugged and reached into the pile for a yellow balloon. 

“Ash! Lil T! Come help!” Zakk called.

“We’re gonna prank Lucas!” Awsten added.

Jawn grumbled inaudibly to himself, going back to his drawing. 

“I bet I can blow them up faster than youuuu,” Zakk sing-songed. 

Jawn narrowed his eyes. “No, you can’t.”

“Actually,” Zakk said thoughtfully, “I bet I _can_.”

That got Jawn down from his bed quickly.

Within half an hour, Awsten, Ashton, Jawn, and Zakk had blown up all sixty balloons and begun holding them on the glass of the kitchen windows while Travis stretched tape across them. The idea, according to Zakk, was that Lucas would see the mass of balloons pressed against the window and think that Zakk had filled the entire room with them. 

And it worked.

Lucas pulled his little green convertible into the driveway the minutes later and stopped stock still a few feet back, staring blankly at the window in the side door. After a few moments, something seemed to click in his brain, because he went into the grass and up to the window over the sink. He stopped there, too, just looking at the mass of colorful balloons and somehow appearing simultaneously pissed and dumbfounded. 

As he stalked toward the front door, Zakk hurriedly herded the four boys into their bedrooms, put a finger over his lips, and tiptoed quickly into the downstairs bathroom. Zakk slipped inside just in time, and Lucas stormed into the kitchen, ready to confront whatever hell Zakk had come up with this time. 

But all he was met with was a bunch of balloons against the glass.

“Boo!” Awsten heard, and then Lucas yelled, “ARGHHHHH! I am going to fire you!”

“You can’t fire me,” Zakk laughed. “We’re in this fifty-fifty.” 

“I’m going to fire you anyway!” Lucas fumed. 

“Okay, okay,” Zakk placated, and even from upstairs, Awsten could hear the smile in his voice.

“That better be the last prank!”

“It was.” 

“Good!” Lucas raised his voice. “Gentlemen! I sincerely hope you had nothing to do with Zakk’s childishness!”

The four boys glanced amongst themselves with caught looks on their faces. 

“Moving on - we’re starting dinner soon! I expect you all to remind Zakk what good behavior looks like.” 

“We will!” Awsten called back.

“Good. Downstairs in ten minutes.” 

Things were quiet at dinner. Lucas seemed to have no reservations about blatantly staring at the boys, so they all kept their eyes down, except for Travis, who stared innocently right back.

“So. Tell me what you boys have been whispering about all day,” Lucas finally said, wiping his mouth with his napkin. 

Jawn and Awsten traded a glance. 

“Ashton?”

Ashton shrugged. 

“What sort of thing is spending time in Awsten and Jawn’s room right now?” 

Ashton looked across the table at Awsten and then back down at his plate. 

“I know there’s something in there.” 

“It’s a turtle!” Travis piped up.

“A turtle?”

“He means Oliver,” Jawn supplied before Travis could elaborate.

“No, I don’t!” Travis protested. “It’s a turtle in there! I seen it.”

“Is it real?” Lucas asked sharply. 

“Uh-huh.” 

Zakk gaped. “What?” He looked at Jawn and then Awsten. “What?” he repeated.

“Um,” Jawn muttered.

“I heard it was Awsten’s idea,” Lucas added. He pointed his fork at the purple-haired boy. “Straight from his own mouth.” 

Awsten did his best to keep his expression neutral. 

“His name’s Franklin,” Travis added, drawing both Zakk and Lucas’ attention back to him.

“And it’s a real turtle,” Lucas said flatly. 

“Yep. I seen it,” Travis said again. 

“Trav, how big is it?” Zakk asked suspiciously.

Travis held his hands up, his fingers shaped into an oval the same size and shape as a turtle shell. “He’s like this.” 

“Travis, would you go get the turtle, please?” Lucas prompted.

He shook his head.

“Why not?” 

“Awsten and Jawn said only they’s allowed to pick Franklin up. In case I lose him or somethin'.”

“Well, I am in charge, and I am asking you to go get Franklin, please. Bring him to the table.”

“Is he gonna eat with us?!”

“No.”

“Oh.” Travis looked at Awsten but obeyed Lucas’ instructions. Halfway out of the room, though, he paused. “Am I gonna have to sit on that couch again?” he asked nervously.

“No,” Lucas and Zakk responded simultaneously.

Travis nodded. “Okay then.” And he disappeared. 

Lucas leaned forward and, with his voice impossibly low, said, “Gentlemen, I don’t know what is going on, but I specifically told you that there would be no pranks today. If you are harboring an animal upstairs, there will-”

“We _really don’t_ have a turtle,” Awsten interrupted.

“There will be consequences,” Lucas finished shortly. “Do you understand?” 

All three boys nodded. 

“Where would they have even gotten a live turtle?” Zakk asked quietly across the table. 

“I don’t know.”

“We don’t have any in the yard; there’s no water source. And you said it yourself; it’s not like the boys have a car. Or any money.” 

“I don’t-” Lucas began, but Travis rushed back down the stairs just then. 

“I got him! He’s right here!” He danced into the dining room with a turtle carefully positioned in his hands. “See, he’s real! I told you!” He thrust it out toward Lucas. You can hold him if you want, but he’s fragile. He might get his legs hurt if you’re rough, so be real gentle, okay?” 

Lucas took the turtle from Travis’ grasp. “Thank you, Travis. You can go back to eating your dinner.” 

“Yay!”

“Everyone else, in the office please.” 

The boys stood and filed out of the room, heads down.

“We’re so busted,” Jawn whispered glumly to Awsten. 

In response, Awsten elbowed him in the arm. 

As soon as the office door closed behind them, Awsten pleaded, “I told you it wasn’t real!” 

Lucas held up Jawn’s cut-out drawing of a turtle. “This is unacceptable,” he said sharply. 

“It was just for fun,” Ashton murmured guiltily. 

“No. I told you all no pranks. All of you know what the word ‘no’ means, don’t you?”

They nodded. 

“It’s not their fault,” Awsten hurried to say. “It was my idea; I made them help, and-”

“No, they are in control of themselves. They went along with it on their own accord. They could have opted out at any time or told me what was going on.” He lifted the turtle a few inches. “And I know that this is your handiwork,” he noted, transferring his gaze to Jawn. 

Jawn shrugged one shoulder and admitted, “I thought it would be funny.” 

“It wasn’t.” 

Awsten frowned. 

“Did none of you think about the fact that this prank wasn’t on Zakk and myself so much as it was on Travis?” 

The boys stilled. 

“You used his confusion to pull this off. That’s not very nice or considerate.”

“I didn’t think of it like that,” Ashton said, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“We won’t do it again,” Jawn promised.

“All of you went against the rules today. That means no -

_Please don’t say visitation_ , _please don’t say visitation, please don’t say visitation_ , Awsten begged mentally. 

“-pizza at Bible Study tomorrow, and you’ll all be separated tomorrow during quiet time as well.”

Awsten breathed a silent sigh of relief. That he could handle. 

Still, Ashton and Jawn seemed pretty disappointed. So Awsten tried one more time.

“Lucas, please don’t be mad at them. The whole thing was my idea, and-”

Lucas shot him a look, and he quickly fell silent. “The punishment is final.”

The three boys nodded.

“Now, go back to the table and finish your dinner. If anything like this happens again, there will be serious repercussions.” 

Awsten and Ashton started to leave, but Jawn stayed put. Awsten just barely caught him quietly asking Lucas, “Do I have to go into foster care?”

“No,” Lucas replied, and that was that. 

The four of them went back to the table, and before Lucas sat down, he returned the turtle to Travis. “Franklin is yours now,” he stated, setting the drawing down beside Travis’ knife and cup. “You can keep him.”

Travis’ eyes lit up. “He’s mine?”

“Yes.”

“Yay!” Travis cheered. 

As much as getting the guys in trouble sucked, Awsten had to admit that he was glad the dumb prank had made Travis so happy.

 

* * *

**Peace and Purpose Home for Young Men - Jawn and Awsten's Room**  
**April 1, 9:28 PM**

"Now," Lucas murmured after he took a moment to say goodnight to the boys, "I know retaliation isn't always the answer. But I think in this case, it's okay."

Jawn and Awsten looked at each other in confusion.

"I want you to know that I have never responded to Zakk's April Fool's pranks. But this year, I'm ready to pull one on him." 

Awsten grinned. Lucas was going to fight back?! No way.

"It's nothing dangerous," Lucas continued, "but hopefully it will scare him for a few moments. This is your heads up that there might be some noise." 

"Sweet," Jawn nodded. 

Lucas held a mischievous finger over his lips and went to Ashton and Travis' room, where he relayed the same message. Then the house went dark, and Lucas retreated into his bedroom and closed the door behind himself. 

"What do you think he did?" Awsten whispered excitedly to Jawn.

"No idea. I hope he put Nair in Zakk's shampoo bottle or something."

"No!" Awsten gasped. "That's fucking  _evil._ "

Jawn laughed. "It would be way more evil if Zakk did it to Lucas."

"True," Awsten chuckled. 

"What do _you_ think he did?"

"I have no idea," Awsten replied honestly. 

They didn't have to wait long to find out. Barely ten minutes later, the light thrown across the floor outside of Zakk's room grew brighter and then almost instantly turned much dimmer. Awsten could hear traces of Zakk humming as he wandered around the room getting ready for bed, and he strained to hear if anything else was going on, but his efforts were fruitless.

And then Zakk shrieked, long and high-pitched like a girl. "LUCAS!" he cried fearfully, bursting loudly out of his room and sprinting past Jawn and Awsten's room, past the staircase, past the bathroom, past Ashton and Travis' room, and straight through Lucas' door without knocking. "Lucas!"

Awsten had his hands cupped around his mouth to keep in the sound of his laughter. On the other bed, Jawn was grinning widely.

"What's wrong?" Lucas asked, and Awsten could hear his voice laced with immense concern. "Zakk, calm down and tell me what happened."

"There's a giant cockroach! In - in - in my lamp!" He sounded wild and out of breath.

"There's a cockroach in your lamp?" Lucas echoed, the mattress squeaking as he stood up. 

"Yeah, in the lampshade! I turned it on, and it lit it up! Oh my god, I almost _touched it_!" he wailed. "You have to kill it!" 

They walked together back toward Zakk's bedroom, but Zakk stopped outside the bathroom door and refused to go any closer until Lucas pronounced the creature deceased. 

"Zakk, it's just a bug," Lucas pointed out from the doorway. "It's not even that big. This is ridiculous. When are you going to get over this?"

"Never," Zakk snapped. "Just kill it so I can go to bed."

Lucas sighed.

"And! You have to make sure there aren't any more hiding in there! What if they crawl on me while I'm asleep?" Zakk shuddered at the thought. 

"I will kill this one for you, but you're responsible for the rest." Lucas' shadow disappeared into the bedroom, and Awsten heard the sound of a tissue being pulled out of a box. Lucas fumbled around for a moment and then came back out of the room and over to Zakk.  


"Did you get it? Is it dead?" Zakk asked worriedly.

"Yeah. Wait... uh-oh," Lucas muttered, and then he quickly moved his arm. The cockroach tumbled out of the Kleenex, and Zakk screamed again, just as crazed and high-pitched as the first time.

"GET IT AWAY!" he shrieked, pressing himself as close to the wall as he could get.

Lucas couldn't stop himself from laughing that time. "Zakk, chill out," he chuckled, and he reached down to pick it up.

"DON'T!" Zakk cried, clearly scandalized at the idea of Lucas touching an insect with his bare hand. "What are you doing, dude?! Kill it!"

"It's cardboard," he smirked, and he picked up the little fake bug.

Zakk's mouth dropped open. "Y-you did this?!" Zakk sputtered.

"Yes. To get back at  _you._ "

"That's not  _funny_ , Lucas!"

"It's a little funny," Lucas smiled. "You scared the crap out of me with that airhorn this morning. Not to mention the car prank last year, and that phone call in grad school... You left me no choice but to scare you, too." 

"I hate you," Zakk grumbled, and he stalked angrily past Lucas and back toward his room. 

"No way. You just told me two hours ago that I'm your best friend," Lucas laughed.

Zakk loudly closed his door without another word. 

Jawn launched up from his bed and out to where Lucas was standing on the landing. "That was  _awesome_!" he whispered. 

"Thanks," Lucas whispered back, still smiling. "I'll go apologize in a little bit. He needs a minute, but maybe this will make him think twice next year." He shook his head. "Ah, I hate April Fool's Day," he sighed happily. "I'm so glad it's over." 

"I'm not," Jawn said glumly. "It was so fun."

"I _hate_ it," Lucas repeated with a smile. "Go get back in bed."

"Kay." Jawn retreated back into the bedroom he shared with Awsten.

In a louder voice, Lucas called, "Goodnight, gentlemen!"

They all responded, "Goodnight!" 

"Goodnight, Zakk! Don't let the bedbugs bite!"

"Shut up," Zakk grumbled.

Lucas laughed again.

 

* * *

 

** Room 121  
April 10, 10:43 AM **

When the classroom phone rang during third period, Geoff stared at it anxiously for a moment before forcing himself to reach over and answer it. He’d given his freshmen some time to work on their papers, so the room was silent, and he wasn’t teaching. He quietly cleared his throat and asked, “Hello?”

“Hi, Geoff, this is Annie.”

Strange. She’d never called him before.

“You have a class this period, don’t you?” she inquired.

“Yes.”

“Alright. I’m going to give you some information, and I need you to stay calm and not say anything. Can you do that?”

Geoff swallowed. “Yes.”

“Okay. Emily Haynes is missing.”

Geoff opened his mouth but quickly closed it, remembering just in time not to speak. 

“She’s not with you, is she?” Annie asked.

“No.” 

“And have you seen her today?”

“Yes. Earlier this morning.” 

“When and where?” 

“She came into my classroom at approximately... seven forty.”

Geoff could hear hushed communication on the other end of the line, and then Annie said into the phone, “Okay. I’m asking because we’re in a bit of an urgent situation. I went to her history class to bring her to my office and talk, but she wasn’t there. It turns out she didn’t go to first or second period, but she was on the bus this morning, and her mother says she’s not at home. You seem to be the only adult who’s seen her all day.” 

Geoff closed his eyes. Urgent situation? That probably meant…

“Did she say anything to you? Anything at _all._ ” 

“No,” he replied, attempting to keep his nerves out of his voice. Several of the students had glanced up from their work, but Geoff paid them no mind. “She didn’t speak, but she did give me a hug.” 

The other end of the line was silent for a moment, and then Annie said, “Geoff, I’m going to send a sub to your room. Will you help me look for her?” 

“Of course,” he replied. He was already beginning to feel nauseous with worry; he wouldn’t be able to bear sitting still and doing nothing. 

“Thank you. We’ve alerted her parents, and they’re on their way. If we don’t find her in the next fifteen minutes, we’re going to contact the police.” 

“Alright.”

“Do you know of anywhere she might be? Places she likes to go?” 

Geoff shook his head even though Annie couldn’t see him. “She often spends time in my room, and I occasionally see her in the library. I know she also-”

“Just tell me places,” Annie reminded. “We don’t want any of the kids finding out what’s happening.”

“Oh, of course,” Geoff nodded. “There’s also the theater. Other than that, I’m not sure. I will check the library.”

“Okay. You have my number, right?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Call me if you find anything, and I’ll do the same. But keeping her safe is more important than contacting me, so if you can’t, don’t.”

“I understand.”

“Go ahead and go. The sub should be there any minute.”

“Thank you.” Geoff hung up the phone and walked right out the door, leaving all of the students sitting at their desks with blatant confusion written across their faces. There was no time for an explanation. It was hard to imagine the bright, creative kid he’d been teaching all year wanting to…

But Michael had surprised him, too.

He started moving faster. 

As soon as Geoff got to the library, he searched quickly up and down every row of books. Through the fiction section, the reference section, the media room, back out to the non-fiction section… but he came up empty-handed. He brushed a hand over his mouth and chin, trying to think of anywhere she might be. Where would she go?

“Emily?” he asked softly. It was a shot in the dark, but he had nothing. Hopefully, Miss Harrison had already found her somewhere. 

He walked back toward the reference books, because if he were going to hide in the library, that would be the place he’d be the least likely to be found. No high school student ever looked at an encyclopedia. Geoff was positive that no one had cracked one open for ten years. Maybe longer. 

“Emily?” he tried again. 

Where could she be? What if she left school on foot like Awsten had in March? What if she’d managed to hurt herself, and she was alone somewhere, upset and dying and-

Geoff forced the thoughts out of his head and instead focused on their interaction that morning and whether or not she’d given him any clues as to where she could be.

First, she came into his room. Then, she stopped in the doorway instead of walking right in like usual, and she didn’t speak. She waited for him to notice her even though she was silent. After that, when he did look up and greet her, she hadn’t responded. And last, she walked behind his desk to give him a brief hug before immediately leaving. 

Geoff had found it odd at the time. Had he learned nothing from Michael? Why didn’t he say something? 

Geoff took a sharp breath and pulled his phone from his pocket in hopes of a text. 

Nothing.

“Please,” he whispered. He raised his voice in one last attempt. “Emily?” 

“Mr. W?” came a timid reply. 

Geoff whirled around. “Emily?!” he asked, and he took a few brisk steps toward the back of the library. There she was, tucked behind one of the very last shelves. She was pressed against the wall with her knees drawn up to her chest, a big sweatshirt swallowing her body, and one of her shoes untied. It was clear that she had been crying. 

“Emily, oh my word,” Geoff breathed, relief coursing through him. “Are you alright? We’ve been so worried.”  
  
She didn’t respond.

Slowly, he sat down across from her. He gently asked, “Whatever are you doing back here?” 

“I don’t know,” she whispered.

He nodded. After a pause, he inquired,“Are you considering harming yourself?” 

She blinked tiredly.

“You won’t be in any trouble if you are,” he assured her. “I just want to understand.”

“I don’t know…” she repeated.

He nodded again and asked quietly, “Emily… what is the matter?” 

She swallowed, and her eyes welled up with tears. As she looked down at her knees, she also started to mess with the cuff of her sweatshirt sleeve. “I’m failing math,” she confessed hopelessly. 

Geoff nodded, his eyes wide with concern as he listened. 

“And my parents won’t stop fighting all the time. It used to be just a little, but now it’s a lot. I think they’re gonna get a divorce.” 

Although Geoff didn’t have any wisdom for her, he was about to speak. But then she kept going.

“My dad…” She swallowed and began to cry. “He’s cheating on my mom, and it’s all my fault.”

“Oh, Emily,” Geoff replied softly, “that’s not your fault.” 

“No, it is,” she insisted, sniffling. “My little sister Morgan didn’t do anything, and my mom’s the best, so… But I can’t get any homework done at home since it’s always so loud and everybody’s so angry all the time. Morgan gets scared when it's quiet. So she comes in my room, and we sit in there and play, but we have to be quiet or else we might make my dad mad, and.” She pressed her hands over her face as she continued crying. 

Geoff felt his own eyes growing watery, and he quickly pressed his lips together.

“I don’t even eat dinner most of the time, cause I don’t want to leave my room. I sneak down and get a bunch of snacks from the pantry and hide them in my closet, or I bring food home from school for me and Morgan. It’s not like we don’t have the money to eat; we do. I just really don’t want to see my dad.” 

She angrily wiped her eyes, and when she moved, Geoff could hear the unmistakable rattle of pills emit from her sweatshirt pocket. He froze. “What was that sound?” he asked slowly. 

“Sleeping pills,” she whispered back. 

Geoff nodded, and he was suddenly glad that he’d been reading so much about proper ways to intervene in situations like this. Calmly, he offered, “May I hold them for you?”

She shook her head.

“Why not?”

“Cause I want them.”

“To end your life?” The words felt so foreign coming out of his mouth, but he needed to use them. He needed - desperately - to understand. 

She shrugged. 

“Please let me take them, Emily.” 

She wiped a tear off her jaw and ignored the proposition. She continued, “I don’t know if he wants to marry the lady or whatever. I don’t know who she is, and I don’t want to. But it's awful watching him destroy my family. We’ve always been so close, you know? I don’t want Morgan growing up like this. She doesn’t deserve that.” 

“I am truly sorry,” Geoff murmured.

She nodded. “Thanks. It doesn’t matter, though. There’s… other stuff going on.”

“No,” Geoff protested. “It matters greatly. There is a group of people across the school in a panic searching for you. We were terribly worried, because this matters to us. It matters to me, and I hope very much that it matters to you as well.” 

Emily was clearly ashamed. “I’m sorry.”

“There is no need to apologize," he assured. "Although I hope you know I mean it when I say that I was deeply concerned.”

She looked sadly down at the top of her knees. “There’s just a lot going on. Between all this and my math class and the lockdown..." She covered her face again in an attempt to conceal fresh tears. "I don’t know. I just don’t want to go home.” 

“Thank you for telling me,” he said, ignoring the way his heart squeezed sadly in his chest at her words. Then he assured her, “You’re not in any trouble. But I do need to let Miss Harrison know that you’ve been located.”

Emily nodded.

“I know that this is not my place to say, but I believe it would be beneficial to you to share with her the information you just shared with me.” 

“Which part?”

“The entirety. Especially the part where you don’t want to return home.” 

“Okay.” 

Geoff reached into his pocket for his phone, but before he could slide it out, Emily interrupted him.

“Mr. W?”

“Yes?” he replied, retracting his hand. 

“You can have these.” Shakily, she passed him the bottle of sleeping pills. 

He grasped them tightly and tucked them out of her sight. “Thank you, Emily. I am very proud of you.” 

The words made her start to cry all over again, and Geoff pursed his lips sadly as he watched her. He felt the need to embrace her, but instead, he helped her to her feet. “Come,” he said lightly. “Everything will be alright.” 

As they stood, Geoff removed his phone and dialed Annie Harrison’s number.  “Hello,” he greeted when she picked up. “I have located her. She is alright.” 

“Oh, thank god,” Annie breathed. “Where are you?”

“The library.” 

“Is that her crying?” Annie asked a little sadly.

“Yes.” 

“Alright. Will you bring her to my office, please? Her parents are here.”

“Yes.” 

Emily stopped short and reached out to grab the side of Geoff’s shirt to get his attention. He turned back and looked down at her. 

“I don’t want to see my dad,” she told him urgently. 

He nodded. “Annie, could you hear that?” 

“Yes. I’ll make sure it’s just her mom.”

Emily let go of Geoff’s button-down as the words reached her ears. 

“Alright. Thank you,” he said into the phone.

“See you in a minute.” 

Geoff hung up, and he and Emily traveled silently back into the main building. 

“Emily?!” came a hysterical voice as they turned the corner into the counseling office. 

“Mom…” 

Emily’s mother rushed across the space to her daughter and grabbed her in a tight hug. Emily sobbed freely into her shoulder, and Geoff watched as Emily’s mother pressed a frantic kiss to the side of her head.

“Oh god, Em, I was so scared,” she whispered.

Annie drifted across the space to murmur to Geoff, “Did she do anything?”

“I don’t believe so,” he replied quietly. 

“Good.”

“Although she did have these in her possession.” Geoff glanced at the pill bottle before he handed it off. It was small but unopened, packed to the brim with extra strength sleeping pills. 

Annie took them tiredly. She was silent for a moment, taking in the scene in front of her. Then she said softly, “Geoff, your hands are shaking.” 

He attempted to smile. 

Emily’s mother looked over Emily’s shoulder and mouthed to him, “Thank you.”

He nodded back. He’d met her twice before, and she seemed very kind. It was no wonder Emily was so torn up about what her father had done.

“Who is teaching my students?” Geoff asked Annie, just for the sake of something to say, but he didn’t get to hear the answer because all of a sudden, Emily’s father barged into the office and made a beeline for his wife and daughter. 

“Sir,” Annie said sharply, and Emily grabbed tightly onto her mom. Emily’s mom held onto her daughter just as strongly. 

Geoff’s instincts told him that there was something more going on in this family than merely the cheating, and he couldn’t help but stand up straighter and position himself in front of the women. He smoothly walked past them and straight up to Emily’s father. Evenly, he stated, “You were asked to stay outside.”

“Get away from me,” the guy replied, batting at Geoff. He tried to go around Geoff, but Geoff was too intent on keeping his student safe, especially once he realized that her father smelled like alcohol. 

“You need to return to the hall,” Geoff insisted, his voice hardening. 

“Why, cause the bookworm told me to? 'Mr. W,' the little old-fashioned faggot?” 

Geoff’s blood ran cold, but he kept his mouth tightly shut. 

“I don’t think so,” the guy laughed. “I’m going to see my daughter.” 

“No, you are not.” Geoff mirrored the step the man took so that he remained blocked. “You are unwelcome here. You will go back into the hall and wait until someone tells you what you are to do.” 

The man snarled, but it was clear that Geoff wasn’t backing down. He stalked back out the way he came, and as soon as he was gone, Emily immediately moved to Geoff. She threw her arms around him and buried her tearstained face in his chest. 

One of Geoff’s trembling hands came up to rest on her back. His heart was beating uncomfortably quickly from the confrontation, but at least his crying student served as a consuming distraction. His focus was diverted even more when Emily’s mother came up beside him as well, one of her hands wrapping around Geoff’s elbow. 

“Thank you, Mr. W,” she said sincerely. She appeared paler than she had been the moment before, and between what he’d just witnessed and Emily’s tearful admission about not wanting to go home, Geoff was growing seriously alarmed. 

Before he had the opportunity to say anything, though, Annie lightly touched Emily’s mom’s shoulder and lead her a step away. Emily pulled back from Geoff as her mother took her hand. Geoff wanted so badly to give her an encouraging smile, but she couldn’t seem to get her gaze up off of the carpet. 

After the trio went into Annie’s office and the door shut behind them, Geoff remained positioned outside for a few minutes to make sure that Emily’s father didn’t come back. 

The sick feeling in his stomach started to spread, though, and as he was standing in the little alcove, he dialed his phone again. He lifted it to his ear, not sure whether he wanted anyone to pick up or not.  But they did pick up, and Geoff was forced to find words to explain the nature of his call.

“Hello. I am incredibly sorry to bother you, but you told me to contact you if I needed anything, and I…”  As the reply came, Geoff closed his eyes, and they filled with tears. With a wobbling voice, he responded,  “Yes; thank you very much. That would be wonderful.” 

 

* * *

** Peace and Purpose Home for Young Men - Entry  
April 13, 2:04 PM  **

"In the city of Ember, the sky was always dark," Geoff softly began. As usual, Awsten slipped closer beside him to peer carefully down at all the words resting on the page. And as usual, Geoff tipped the book a little to the left so that he could get a better look. "The only light came from great flood lamps mounted on the buildings and at the tops of poles in the middle of the larger squares. When the lights were on, they cast a yellowish glow over the streets; people walking by threw long shadows that shortened and then stretched out again. When the lights were off, as they were between nine at night and six in the morning, the city was so dark that people might as well have been wearing blindfolds. Sometimes darkness fell in the middle of the day."

"How come?" Travis asked worriedly.

"That's what we're going to find out," Geoff smiled. 

Travis nodded. 

_ The city of Ember was old, and everything in it, including the power lines, was in need of repair. So now and then the lights would flicker and go out. These were terrible moments for the people of Ember. As they came to a halt in the middle of the street or stood stock-still in their houses, afraid to move in the utter blackness, they were reminded of something they preferred not to think about: that someday the lights of the city might go out and never come back on.  _

_ But most of the time life proceeded as it always had. Grown people did their work, and younger people, until they reached the age of twelve, went to school. On the last day of their final year, which was called Assignment Day, they were given jobs to do. The graduating students occupied Room 8 of the Ember School. On Assignment Day of the year 241, this classroom, usually noisy first thing in the morning, was completely silent. All twenty-four students sat upright and still at the desks they had grown too big for. They were waiting.  _

_ The desks were arranged in four rows of six, one behind the other. In the last row sat a slender girl named Lina Mayfleet. She was winding a strand of her long, dark hair around her finger, winding and unwinding it again and again. Sometimes she plucked at a thread on her ragged cape or bent over to pull on her socks, which were loose and tended to slide down around her ankles. One of her feet tapped the floor softly.  _

_ In the second row was a boy named Doon Harrow. He sat with his shoulders hunched, his eyes squeezed shut in concentration, and his hands clasped tightly together. His hair looked rumpled, as if he hadn’t combed it for a while. He had dark, thick eyebrows, which made him look serious at the best of times and, when he was anxious or angry, came together to form a straight line across his forehead. His brown corduroy jacket was so old that its ridges had flattened out.  _

_ Both the girl and the boy were making urgent wishes. Doon’s wish was very specific. He repeated it over and over again, his lips moving slightly, as if he could make it come true by saying it a thousand times. Lina was making her wish in pictures rather than in words. In her mind’s eye, she saw herself running through the streets of the city in a red jacket. She made this picture as bright and real as she could.  _

_ Lina looked up and gazed around the schoolroom. She said a silent goodbye to everything that had been familiar for so long. Goodbye to the map of the city of Ember in its scarred wooden frame and the cabinet whose shelves held The Book of Numbers, The Book of Letters, and The Book of the City of Ember. Goodbye to the cabinet drawers labeled “New Paper” and “Old Paper.” Goodbye to the three electric lights in the ceiling that seemed always, no matter where you sat, to cast the shadow of your head over the page you were writing on. And goodbye to their teacher, Miss Thorn, who had finished her Last Day of School speech, wishing them luck in the lives they were about to begin. Now, having run out of things to say, she was standing at her desk with her frayed shawl clasped around her shoulders. And still the mayor, the guest of honor, had not arrived.  _

_ Someone’s foot scraped back and forth on the floor. Miss Thorn sighed. Then the door rattled open, and the mayor walked in. He looked annoyed, as though they were the ones who were late.  _

_ “Welcome, Mayor Cole,” said Miss Thorn. She held out her hand to him.  _

_ The mayor made his mouth into a smile. “Miss Thorn,” he said, enfolding her hand. “Greetings. Another year.”  _

_ The mayor was a vast, heavy man, so big in the middle that his arms looked small and dangling. In one hand he held a little cloth bag. He lumbered to the front of the room and faced the students. His gray, drooping face appeared to be made of something stiffer than ordinary skin; it rarely moved except for making the smile that was on it now. “Young people of the Highest Class,” the mayor began. He stopped and scanned the room for several moments; his eyes seemed to look out from far back inside his head. He nodded slowly. “Assignment Day now, isn’t it? Yes. First we get our education. Then we serve our city.”  _

_ Again his eyes moved back and forth along the rows of students, and again he nodded, as if someone had confirmed what he’d said. He put the little bag on Miss Thorn’s desk and rested his hand on it. “What will that service be, eh? Perhaps you’re wondering.” He did his smile again, and his heavy cheeks folded like drapes.  _

_ Lina’s hands were cold. She wrapped her cape around her and pressed her hands between her knees. Please hurry, Mr. Mayor, she said silently. Please just let us choose and get it over with. Doon, in his mind, was saying the same thing, only he didn’t say please.  _

_ “Something to remember,” the mayor said, holding up one finger. “Job you draw today is for three years. Then, Evaluation. Are you good at your job? Fine. You may keep it. Are you unsatisfactory? Is there a greater need elsewhere? You will be re-assigned. It is extremely important,” he said, jabbing his finger at the class, “for all…work…of Ember…to be done. To be properly done.” He picked up the bag and pulled open the drawstring. “So. Let us begin. Simple procedure. Come up one at a time. Reach into this bag. Take one slip of paper. Read it out loud.” He smiled and nodded. The flesh under his chin bulged in and out. “Who cares to be first?”  _

_ No one moved.  _

_ Lina stared down at the top of her desk.  _

_ There was a long silence.  _

_ Then Lizzie Bisco, one of Lina’s best friends, sprang to her feet. “I would like to be first,” she said in her breathless high voice.  _

_ “Good. Walk forward.”  _

_ Lizzie went to stand before the mayor. Because of her orange hair, she looked like a bright spark next to him.  _

_ “Now choose.” The mayor held out the bag with one hand and put the other behind his back, as if to show he would not interfere.  _

_ Lizzie reached into the bag and withdrew a tightly folded square of paper. She unfolded it carefully. Lina couldn’t see the look on Lizzie’s face, but she could hear the disappointment in her voice as she read out loud: “Supply Depot clerk.”  _

_ “Very good,” said the mayor.  “A vital job.”  _

_ Lizzie trudged back to her desk.  _

_ Lina smiled at her, but Lizzie made a sour face.  _

_ Supply Depot clerk wasn’t a bad job, but it was a dull one. The Supply Depot clerks sat behind a long counter, took orders from the storekeepers of Ember, and sent the carriers down to bring up what was wanted from the vast network of storerooms beneath Ember’s streets. The storerooms held supplies of every kind—canned food, clothes, furniture, blankets, light bulbs, medicine, pots and pans, reams of paper, soap, more light bulbs—everything the people of Ember could possibly need. The clerks sat at their ledger books all day, recording the orders that came in and the goods that went out.  _

_ Lizzie didn’t like to sit still; she would have been better suited to something else, Lina thought—messenger, maybe, the job Lina wanted for herself. Messengers ran through the city all day, going everywhere, seeing everything.  _

_ “Next,” said the mayor.  _

_ This time two people stood up at once, Orly Gordon and Chet Noam. Orly quickly sat down again, and Chet approached the mayor.  _

_ “Choose, young man,” the mayor said.  _

_ Chet chose. He unfolded his scrap of paper. “Electrician’s helper,” he read, and his wide face broke into a smile.  _

_ Lina heard someone take a quick breath. She looked over to see Doon pressing a hand against his mouth.  _

_ You never knew, each year, exactly which jobs would be offered. Some years there were several good jobs, like greenhouse helper, timekeeper’s assistant, or messenger, and no bad jobs at all. Other years, jobs like Pipeworks laborer, trash sifter, and mold scraper were mixed in. But there would always be at least one or two jobs for electrician’s helper. Fixing the electricity was the most important job in Ember, and more people worked at it than at anything else.  _

_ Orly Gordon was next. She got the job of building repair assistant, which was a good job for Orly. She was a strong girl and liked hard work.  _

_ Vindie Chance was made a greenhouse helper. She gave Lina a big grin as she went back to her seat. She’ll get to work with Clary, Lina thought. Lucky. So far no one had picked a really bad job. Perhaps this time there would be no bad jobs at all. The idea gave her courage. Besides, she had reached the point where the suspense was giving her a stomach ache. So as Vindie sat down—even before the mayor could say “Next”—she stood up and stepped forward.  _

_ The little bag was made of faded green material, gathered at the top with a black string. Lina hesitated a moment, then put her hand inside and fingered the bits of paper. Feeling as if she were stepping off a high building, she picked one. She unfolded it. The words were written in black ink, in small careful printing. PIPEWORKS LABORER, they said. She stared at them.  _

_ “Out loud, please,” the mayor said.  _

_ “Pipeworks laborer,” Lina said in a choked whisper.  _

_ “Louder,” said the mayor.  _

_ “Pipeworks laborer,” Lina said again, her voice loud and cracked. There was a sigh of sympathy from the class. Keeping her eyes on the floor, Lina went back to her desk and sat down. Pipeworks laborers worked below the storerooms in the deep labyrinth of tunnels that contained Ember’s water and sewer pipes. They spent their days stopping up leaks and replacing pipe joints. It was wet, cold work; it could even be dangerous. A swift underground river ran through the Pipeworks, and every now and then someone fell into it and was lost. People were lost occasionally in the tunnels, too, if they strayed too far.  _

_ Lina stared miserably down at a letter B someone had scratched into her desktop long ago. Almost anything would have been better than Pipeworks laborer. Greenhouse helper had been her second choice. She imagined with longing the warm air and earthy smell of the greenhouse, where she could have worked with Clary, the greenhouse manager, someone she’d known all her life. She would have been content as a doctor’s assistant, too, binding up cuts and bones. Even street-sweeper or cart-puller would have been better. At least then she could have stayed above ground, with space and people around her. She thought going down into the Pipeworks must be like being buried alive.  _

_ One by one, the other students chose their jobs. None of them got such a wretched job as hers. Finally the last person rose from his chair and walked forward. It was Doon. His dark eyebrows were drawn together in a frown of concentration. His hands, Lina saw, were clenched into fists at his sides. Doon reached into the bag and took out the last scrap of paper. He paused a minute, pressing it tightly in his hand.  _

_ “Go on,” said the mayor. “Read.”  _

_ Unfolding the paper, Doon read: “Messenger.” He scowled, crumpled the paper, and dashed it to the floor.  _

_ Lina gasped; the whole class rustled in surprise. Why would anyone be angry to get the job of messenger?  _

_ “Bad behavior!” cried the mayor. His eyes bulged and his face darkened. “Go to your seat immediately.”  _

_ Doon kicked the crumpled paper into a corner. Then he stalked back to his desk and flung himself down.  _

_ The mayor took a short breath and blinked furiously. “Disgraceful,” he said, glaring at Doon. “A childish display of temper! Students should be glad to work for their city. Ember will prosper if all…citizens…do…their…best.” He held up a stern finger as he said this and moved his eyes slowly from one face to the next.  _

_ Suddenly Doon spoke up. “But Ember is not prospering!” he cried. “Everything is getting worse and worse!”  _

_ “Silence!” cried the mayor.  _

_ “The blackouts!” cried Doon. He jumped from his seat. “The lights go out all the time now! And the shortages, there’s shortages of everything! If no one does anything about it, something terrible is going to happen!”  _

_ Lina listened with a pounding heart. What was wrong with Doon? Why was he so upset? He was taking things too seriously, as he always did.  _

_ Miss Thorn strode to Doon and put a hand on his shoulder. “Sit down now,” she said quietly.  But Doon remained standing.  _

_ The mayor glared. For a few moments he said nothing. Then he smiled, showing a neat row of gray teeth. “Miss Thorn,” he said. “Who might this young man be?”  _

_ “I am Doon Harrow,” said Doon.  _

_ “I will remember you,” said the mayor. He gave Doon a long look, then turned to the class and smiled his smile again. “Congratulations to all,” he said. “Welcome to Ember’s work force. Miss Thorn. Class. Thank you.” The mayor shook hands with Miss Thorn and departed.  _

_ The students gathered their coats and caps and filed out of the classroom. Lina walked down the Wide Hallway with Lizzie, who said, “Poor you! I thought I picked a bad one, but you got the worst. I feel lucky compared to you.” Once they were out the door, Lizzie said goodbye and scurried away, as if Lina’s bad luck were a disease she might catch.  _

_ Lina stood on the steps for a moment and gazed across Harken Square, where people walked briskly, bundled up cozily in their coats and scarves, or talked to one another in the pools of light beneath the great streetlamps. A boy in a red messenger’s jacket ran toward the Gathering Hall. On Otterwill Street, a man pulled a cart filled with sacks of potatoes. And in the buildings all around the square, rows of lighted windows shone bright yellow and deep gold. Lina sighed. This was where she wanted to be, up here where everything happened, not down underground.  _

_ Someone tapped her on the shoulder. Startled, she turned and saw Doon behind her.  His thin face looked pale.  _

_ “Will you trade with me?” he asked. _

 

Ashton gasped quietly.

 

_ “Trade?”  _

_ “Trade jobs. I don’t want to waste my time being a messenger. I want to help save the city, not run around carrying gossip.”  _

_ Lina gaped at him. “You’d rather be in the Pipeworks?”  _

_ “Electrician’s helper is what I wanted,” Doon said. “But Chet won’t trade, of course. Pipeworks is second best.” _

 

Beside Geoff, Awsten's lips broke into a small, hopeful smile.

 

_ “But why?”  _

_ “Because the generator is in the Pipeworks,” said Doon.  _

_ Lina knew about the generator, of course. In some mysterious way, it turned the running of the river into power for the city. You could feel its deep rumble when you stood in Plummer Square.  _

_ “I need to see the generator,” Doon said. “I have…I have ideas about it.” He thrust his hands into his pockets. “So,” he said, “will you trade?”  _

_ “Yes!” cried Lina. “Messenger is the job I want most!”  And not a useless job at all, in her opinion. People couldn’t be expected to trudge halfway across the city every time they wanted to communicate with someone. Messengers connected everyone to everyone else. Anyway, whether it was important or not, the job of messenger just happened to be perfect for Lina. She loved to run. She could run forever. And she loved exploring every nook and cranny of the city, which was what a messenger got to do.  _

_ “All right then,” said Doon. He handed her his crumpled piece of paper, which he must have retrieved from the floor.  _

_ Lina reached into her pocket, pulled out her slip of paper, and handed it to him.  _

_ “Thank you,” he said.  _

_ “You’re welcome,” said Lina. Happiness sprang up in her, and happiness always made her want to run. She took the steps three at a time and sped down Broad Street toward home. _

 

* * *

**The Park**  
**April 14, 1:58 PM**

Lucas was wearing a brand new Oxford shirt and had his hair combed neatly into a bun when he dropped the boys off at the park for music with Dom. They filed out the sliding door and rushed into the grass, but Lucas called Awsten’s name. The oldest boy faltered and then jogged back to the front window.  


“Yeah?”

“Hey, keep an eye on Travis for me today, please.” 

“Okay,” Awsten nodded, straightening up a little. Lucas had chosen him specifically to look after the younger boy. Not Ashton or Jawn, but _Awsten_. Awsten had never been responsible for anything before, and now he was responsible for an entire person!

Lucas looked anxious as he added, “Make sure he doesn’t go chasing after a bird or something and disappear.” 

“Okay,” Awsten repeated confidently. 

Lucas nodded. He wasn’t supposed to be at Peace and Purpose since he had Mondays off, but he’d shown up after lunch wearing dress clothes and a stressed out expression. Awsten was surprised when Lucas had offered to drive the ‘gentlemen’ to music while Zakk finished getting ready. 

“Getting ready for what?” Jawn had asked.

“We... have a thing in a little bit,” Lucas had responded.

“A thing?” Ashton inquired.

“Yes.”

Hopefully, Travis asked, “Can I come?”

“No. Is everyone ready to go?”

And that had been that. 

But once Awsten was standing next to the van and seeing Lucas’ face at eye-level, he became worried. “Are you okay?” he asked nervously.

“What? Oh - yes, I’m fine; thank you. Go catch up with the group.”

“Wait, um. Just… Did something bad happen?” 

Lucas gave him a smile. “No, Awsten, everything is going to be fine. Go catch up so you can watch out for Travis and I can get back to the house.”

“Okay.”

“Zakk will pick you up in an hour.” 

But an hour and ten minutes passed, and Zakk still hadn’t shown up. Dom led the boys over from the open expanse of grass to the playground, where he and Ashton sat on a bench and chatted a little. Apparently, Ashton really liked rhythm and drumming, and so did Dom, so they were bonding over that. After a few rounds of Travis’ slide course, Awsten wandered over to the swings and sat down, sure to glance over at Travis every few moments. Like the previous time, he didn’t push off, just used his toes to gently propel his body back and forth. 

“Do you think Zakk forgot about us?”

The voice belonged to Jawn. Awsten only replied to it with a short, “Nope.”

“He hasn’t done that before, but I bet he would. Forget us, I mean.”

“He wouldn’t,” Awsten countered lightly. 

“Then where do you think they are?”

“Lucas said he was going back to the house. I don’t know why.” Awsten briefly wondered if this had something to do with his father, but he was pretty sure his dad didn’t have much of a say over what happened to him anymore. 

“What did he say to you at the car?”

“To keep an eye on Travis.”

“Hmm.” Jawn dragged the tip of his shoe through the wood chips a few times, forming a dark line in the dirt. “I bet Zakk forgot us.”

“He didn’t,” Awsten snapped. “He wouldn’t do that.” 

Jawn shrugged. “I mean, my mom forgot me a couple times, so…”

Awsten cracked an empty smile. “Yeah, my parents ‘forgot’ me every fucking day.” 

The swing beside Awsten squeaked in protest as Jawn sat down on it. “My mom’s on drugs. Has been since I was born. Coke and heroin for sure, probably other stuff, too. I don’t know.”

“You don’t have to tell me this,” Awsten said cautiously. He forced himself to visually check on Travis again.

“I know.” 

He was quiet for a moment, and Awsten thought that he wasn’t going to say anything else, but he continued. 

“She’d get high and leave me at church or the park or my friends’ houses. She didn’t know what time it was, so she didn’t show up.” 

Awsten turned his head to look at him. “What about your dad?” 

“I never met my dad. He left cause my mom got pregnant with me.” 

Awsten nodded. “Oh,” he said awkwardly. “I’m sorry.” 

“Yeah. Me, too.”

They sat in silence for several minutes. Awsten absently watched Travis run around and around the playground equipment as he and Jawn each got lost in thought. 

Finally, Zakk pulled the familiar van to the curb, slammed it into park, and rushed up to Dom, apologizing profusely. Ashton launched to his feet and grabbed Zakk in a tight hug.

“Hey,” Awsten muttered, drawing Jawn’s attention off of the ground and onto the scene in front of them.

Jawn stood and began walking toward the little group, and Awsten followed suit.

“It’s alright, mate!” Dom assured the counselor. “Ash here was a little worried about ya, but everybody else was just hanging out. It’s all good, all good!” 

“I’m _so_ sorry,” Zakk said again, briskly rubbing Ashton’s back as he spoke to the music therapist. “Our meeting ran late, and we couldn’t get out of it.” 

“Things happen! It’s A-okay. I’m just glad you’re alright, d'you know what I mean?” 

Zakk nodded gratefully and then leaned down a little. “Ash, I’m fine. Everything’s fine, dude.”

“You scared me,” he said into Zakk’s shoulder in a small voice.

“I know, man. I’m so sorry.” 

“Please don’t do that again.”

“I won't, okay? Promise.” He squeezed Ashton to his chest and then let him go. “Promise,” he repeated fervently as he looked at the other boys. 

“I’ll go get Travis,” Awsten murmured, and Zakk nodded. 

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

 

* * *

**FutureFaith Church**  
**April 16, 7:00 PM**

“Tonight we’re gonna talk about a poem,” Jon began, “which I know, I know - it sounds super lame. But I promise it’s not, yo. This is something that really stuck with me right after I got out of school, and I hope it sticks with you, too.” 

Awsten looked at Ashton, who gave him a small smile and then turned his attention back to Jon. 

“So, the story goes like this. Once, there was this guy, and he has this dream, okay? He dreams that he’s walking down the beach with God. And the whole time they’re walking, the guy can see all these different scenes from his life playing in the sky. Like, maybe one is when something funny happened at football practice in high school, or when his grandpa died, stuff like that. And during each scene, he can see two sets of footprints in the sand - one from him, and one from God.” 

Awsten dropped his chin comfortably into his hand. 

“So he and God are walking and walking and walking by the ocean,” Jon continued, “and all these different parts of his life go by, and some of them are sad, and some of them are happy. Some of the memories, maybe he spends a long time on. Like maybe the day he got married - he gets to watch that one for a long time. Or a time playing with his kids, or when he was golfing, cause let’s just say he loved golf. I know you guys think golf is probably soooo boring, but this guy, he was just mad about golf, okay? You mention a driving range and this guy just goes _bananas_!” 

That drew a little chuckle from the kids.

“But then there’s other memories going on in the sky, too, like, um. Like I said about his grandpa dying. Maybe he remembers when he and his wife got into a big fight, or when he got fired, or a time his daughter disappointed him. Maybe it’s even bigger, like a trial of an illness like cancer. Maybe it’s a time he withdrew from the church because he lost his faith. And in those times, the guy can only see one set of footprints in the sand. His-”

“Heyyy,” Jawn said into Awsten’s ear, making him jump. 

“What?” 

“Where’s Travis?” 

Awsten leaned back to look at the spot where Travis had been sitting with Big T, but Travis was gone, and Big T had moved across the room. “I don’t-” Awsten began, but as he turned to look at Jawn, he was met with the glassiest bloodshot eyes he’d ever seen. “Whoa.”

Jawn blinked at him. “What?” 

“Uh… you good, dude?”

He nodded, looking confused but smiling. 

“He’s probably in the bathroom,” Awsten said, shrugging it off and turning back to the front. 

“He’s not,” Jawn countered. “I was just in there.” 

“You sure?” Awsten asked.

“Yeah.”

Awsten remembered how Lucas had singled him out as Travis' interim protector and decided, “I’m gonna go look for him.”

“Okay, but don’t go in there.”

“What?”

“Don’t go in the bathroom,” Jawn repeated, a weird look on his face. 

“Okay. Geez.” Awsten quietly stood up and headed out of the room. No one stopped him, so he slipped out the door and went directly to the end of the hall where the restroom was. Something about the way Jawn had told him not check there to made Awsten feel like that was the first place he should go. He opened the door, and at first glance, Travis wasn't there. But someone else was. 

Sitting on the edge of the sink was a tall teenage boy with olive skin, big dimples, and cropped, dark hair. That was all Awsten could digest before he became overwhelmed by the unmistakable herbal stench penetrating his nostrils. He took a breath in to speak but instantly started to cough. 

“Ohhh, shit,” the guy on the sink laughed lazily.

As Awsten continued to cough, the guy put his hands up as if to get him to stop, and Awsten caught sight of a joint between his fingers.

“You’re Jawn’s new roommate,” the guy realized as he leaned back against the mirror. “Awsten, right? I’m Cal. I’m the one that left you those big shoes to fill.” He lifted the joint to his mouth and took a drag. “You gotta stop beating on Jawn and take care of him instead. He’s a good kid. Needs somebody to look out for him, show him what’s what.” He looked Awsten over. “You know, I was picturing you a hell of a lot bigger.”

Awsten decided to ignore all of this. “You seen Travis?” he croaked.

“Nah, man, I wish. Fucking love that little retard.”

Awsten’s stomach lurched uncomfortably.

“But, uh, I’m gonna bounce,” he decided as he hopped down from the sink. “Don’t tell anybody you saw me, especially Lucas. Got that? Except, uh. Tell Jawn I said bye, I guess. I'll see him around.” 

The guy exited the bathroom, leaving Awsten standing in a haze of weed. 

“Ugh,” Awsten muttered to himself, coughing a little more. Then he raised his voice. “Travis? Are you in here?”

A quick peek under the stalls proved that no, he wasn’t. Awsten followed Jawn’s old roommate out of the space just in time to see him walk around the corner toward the stairs. Awsten stuck his head into all the rooms in the hall and softly called Travis’ name before reluctantly starting back toward bible study with a grimace. He stopped before he got in the door, though.

Lucas had entrusted Awsten to take care of Travis on Monday, and Awsten had taken it seriously. Maybe the job was only meant for a little while, but it had truly meant something to Awsten, and he didn’t want to let Lucas down. 

He rolled his shoulders back, turned on his heel, and headed for the main level. 

 

* * *

**FutureFaith**  
**April 16, 7:32 PM**

After an exhaustive search came up empty-handed, Awsten knew it was time to get real help. If Travis had wandered off, not just from the room they were supposed to be in but off the actual church property, there was going to be a problem. A really fucking big problem.

When Awsten came back up the stairs, he was met with the sight of a frazzled Big T. “Where have you been?” he demanded. 

“Um, I was… walking around,” Awsten said, thinking quickly. He didn’t want Travis to get in trouble if he’d already come back.

“Is Lil T with you?” 

Awsten’s shoulders sagged. “No. I was looking for him.” 

“When did you notice he was gone?” Big T asked sharply. 

“Right when I left. So probably like, fifteen minutes ago.” 

Big T nodded. “You were looking for him downstairs, yeah?”

Awsten nodded. 

“Did you check the supply closet?” 

“Um…”

“You’d know if you did. Come on.” 

The two of them headed downstairs, Awsten struggling a little to keep up as Big T sped across the building with his long legs.

“Lil T?” he called. “My man? Where you at, dawg?” They went straight to a door Awsten had passed right by, and Big T knocked on the door. “Lil T? You in there?” 

The door opened from the inside, and Travis’ head popped out. “I got him! Don’t worry, Big T!” 

“You got him, huh?” Big T echoed, the relief visible on his face. It reminded Awsten of Mr. W.

“Yep, I got him! He’s okay.” 

“Got who?” Awsten wondered.  
  
“The baby Jesus!” Travis cried, and he stepped out of the oversized closet with a plastic baby doll cradled in his arms. “See?”

“Lil T worries about him sometimes,” Big T explained.

“Cause he’s in the dark, all alone and sad like me,” Travis added. "I was singin' to him and tellin' him stories so he wouldn't be lonely."

Big T nodded, his expression serious. “You wanna bring Jesus upstairs?”

“Yes, yes!” Travis answered cheerfully.

For some reason, that made Awsten feel like crying. Instead, he moved forward into Travis’ space and tightly wrapped his arms around him. “You can’t just leave without telling us where you’re going,” he told Travis firmly. 

“Okay,” Travis said easily, using his baby-free arm to hug Awsten, too. 

"I was really worried about you," Awsten told him.

“I love you,” Travis replied.

Awsten exhaled heavily and squeezed him. “Love you, too, man.” He gave Travis two quick pats on the back, and then they started back up to bible study. 

When Lucas came to pick the boys up, he was almost immediately confronted with the sight of Travis walking around the room, showing off the baby doll to everyone who would pay attention to him. Nate was positioned beside him, hovering almost protectively by his side as he animatedly spoke to Ciara and pointed at the little belly button on the doll. Awsten crashed down on the couch beside Jawn, who was still a little glassy-eyed, trying to supervise both of them at the same time. 

"Why the fuck did you get high?" Awsten hissed to him. 

"Why the fuck not?" he whispered back carelessly, laughing a little and then shrugging.

"If Lucas finds out, you're dead."

"Who cares? Yeah, I'll go into foster care, but I've got nothing to lose."

Awsten blinked at him in surprise. 

"Awsten, Jawn," Lucas called. "Time to go."

The two boys stood up. As they walked toward the counselor, Jawn added, "I'll be eighteen in July, dude. After that..." He shrugged. "I can do whatever I want.

 

* * *

 

 **Peace and Purpose Home for Young Men**  
**April 16, 9:21 PM**

It was almost bedtime when Awsten knocked hesitantly on Zakk’s door. 

The door creaked open several inches. “Aren’t you supposed to be brushing your teeth?” Zakk asked him in annoyance, but then he winked and opened the door wider. “I'm just kidding. What’s up, big bear?”

“Um, I had a question.”

Zakk nodded. “Yeah, come on in.” 

Despite being at Peace and Purpose for more than five weeks, Awsten had never been inside Zakk’s room before. The first thing he noticed was that, unlike Lucas, Zakk had some personal items lying around. There were a few picture frames on the desk by the door; there was a snapshot of a girl who looked like she could be Zakk’s sister sitting with a big black dog, a recent photo that was clearly of Zakk and his parents, and an older picture of Zakk standing beside Lucas, both of them wearing burgundy graduation robes and smiling widely.

“Best day of my life,” Zakk commented, following Awsten’s eyes to the photograph. “My family came down, I ate double my weight at the Cheesecake Factory, and it meant no more school. _Ever_.”

Awsten smiled.

“You wanna sit?” he asked, motioning to the desk chair.

“Um… okay.” Awsten did. 

Zakk took a seat on the edge of his bed. “What’s on your mind, man?”

“So, at bible study earlier, Jon was telling us this story, but I had to go to the bathroom during it,” Awsten lied smoothly, “so I didn’t hear the end, and I was wondering if you knew it. I know you said you don’t know all the specifics of bible stories and stuff, but I don’t think this one was from the bible. Well, I guess maybe it is. I don’t know.”

“Hmm. What’s it about?”

“Um, this guy and God are walking on a beach, and he sees his life in the sky or something?”

“Ah, was it the footprints story?” 

That seemed familiar. “I think so,” Awsten nodded. 

“Yeah, yeah, my mom had a magnet that told that story on the fridge when I was a kid. Let’s see.” He pulled out his phone. “Let me read it to you, cause I don’t wanna mess it up.”

“Wait, no,” Awsten said quickly. “Jon said it was a poem. I don’t like poems.”

“It doesn’t rhyme or anything.”

“I don’t care,” Awsten insisted, shaking his head. 

Zakk smiled. “Fair enough.” He pocketed the phone again. “Well, it’s pretty short. You probably made it almost all the way through. The story is that the man is looking at scenes from his life, and during the good times, he sees two sets of footprints in the sand, and during the hard times, he can only see one. And he gets really upset, because he feels betrayed. He’s like, ‘God, why did you leave me when I needed you the most? You promised me when I decided to follow you that you would always be with me, that you’d walk with me all the way.’”

Awsten could hear someone approaching, and he looked up to see Lucas drifting over to lean against the doorway. 

“Hey,” Zakk said.

Lucas nodded at him and crossed his arms over his chest.

“And then he says,” Zakk continued, “‘During all the worst times of my life, you left me. There was only one set of footprints in the sand, because you weren’t there. Why would you leave me when I needed you the most?’ And then God says-”

“‘My precious, precious child,’” Lucas recited softly, his voice as sweet and slow as molasses, “‘I love you, and I would never leave you. During your times of trial and suffering, when you see only one set of footprints… it was then that I carried you.’”

There was a long silence in the room as the words hung over them.

Awsten was quiet as he took in the message. He wasn’t sure how he’d been expecting the story to conclude, but it certainly hadn’t been like that.  “Oh,” he finally said. He nodded at the ground. “Thanks.” 

“That’s one of my favorite stories,” Lucas murmured. And then he walked away. 

Awsten watched out the door after him for a moment and turned back to Zakk. 

“I forgot he had it memorized,” Zakk mused. “I would’ve just sent you to him.” 

“Memorized?” Awsten asked incredulously. “He memorized the whole thing?”

Zakk nodded. “I don’t think he did it on purpose. I think it just kind of… happened. It was really important to him for a long time.”

“Why?” 

Zakk smiled sadly. “He must’ve heard us talking about it,” he said instead of answering the question. “It still works like a magnet.” 

Awsten nodded as though he understood even though he didn’t. “Well, um. Thanks for telling it to me.” 

“No problem. Thanks for asking.”

Awsten got up and headed back into his bedroom right as Ashton poked his head in. Jawn was too busy drawing to notice him motion Awsten into the bathroom. 

“What happened?” Ashton whispered worriedly. “Why is Lucas crying?”

Awsten’s stomach dropped. “What?” he asked. “What do you mean?” 

“I don’t know. What did you guys talk about?” 

“He’s crying?” Awsten pressed.

“Yeah. He’s trying to be quiet, but I heard him.”

“I mean, I - I just asked Zakk to tell me the story from bible study since I didn’t get to hear the end of it. Lucas came in, and he and Zakk told it to me, and then Lucas left, and then I came back here. That was literally it. He’s really crying? Are you sure?” 

Ashton nodded sadly. 

Awsten bit his bottom lip. _Fuck._

“I think it has something to do with all these secret meetings he and Zakk keep going to,” Ashton muttered. 

“Or maybe it’s my fault,” Awsten murmured. 

“No,” Ashton said quickly, setting a hand on Awsten’s shoulder. “No, it’s not. I’m sure it’s not.” 

“Yeah, it’s probably not,” Awsten agreed with a half-hearted smile. 

But regardless, the boys didn’t see Lucas until the next morning.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prank 1 - https://imgur.com/oSK3qRc  
> prank 2 - https://imgur.com/wLgsL1z  
> prank 3 - https://imgur.com/isNBe5Q


	21. Apologies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> someone made a discord server for MIA (omg???) and you can join it here: https://discord.gg/r6BnBw4
> 
> also - THERE IS ONLY ONE CHAPTER LEFT AFTER THIS ONE AAAAAHHHHHHHH so i extra hope that you enjoy this one <3333
> 
> come find me on tumblr at @otto-wood, @parx-girls, and especially @miafic (also @repu-tay-tion if you like taylor swift hahaha)

** Peace and Purpose Home for Young Men  
** ** May 8, 12:04 PM **

Awsten and Ashton were side by side at the kitchen counter, busy stacking turkey, lettuce, and cheese on tortillas and rolling them up into wraps when Zakk went out to get the mail. Jawn was filling up glasses of ice water while Travis set the table and Lucas finished up in the office. 

It had been a good morning; music was playing, the sun was out, and Awsten had gotten a B back on Mrs. Anderson’s latest history test. Plus, he hadn't been having so many nightmares. He'd almost forgotten what it was like to be well-rested.

“Ugh, no, I hate this one,” Awsten complained as the bass line of Fancy began booming out of Zakk's phone.

“Who dat, who dat? I-G-G-Y!” Jawn mimicked from the fridge, laughing.

“Shut the fuck uuuuup,” Awsten groaned, lifting his hands to cover his ears. 

“Zakk!” Ashton yelled out the open front door. “Can we change the song?” 

“Hang on, dude!” Zakk called back. He had paused halfway up to the house to open one of the envelopes in his grip.

“Okay!” 

They went back to the wraps. 

A moment later, Zakk shakily called, “Lucas?” 

“Yeah?” Lucas shouted from the office. 

“Um… Lucas? You need to see this.”

“Okay, just a second.”

“No, now. _Now_. Lucas!”

As the boys emerged from the kitchen to see what was going on, Lucas jogged to the front door. “Go finish with lunch,” he said to them, pointing. Then he went outside and closed the door behind himself.

Ashton and Travis obeyed Lucas' instructions. Jawn and Awsten stayed to observe.

Out in the driveway, Zakk thrust a white piece of paper into Lucas’ hands and pointed aggressively at something in the middle of it. Awsten was partially able to see what they were doing, but he couldn’t hear what they were saying, so he crept closer to the door. Jawn followed him.

Lucas and Zakk both seemed completely flabbergasted. 

“Do you think this is real?” Zakk asked him, finally tearing his eyes away from the page. 

Lucas’ reply was quiet, and then Zakk raised a hand to cover his face. He looked as though he were crying. Lucas’ fingers wrapped tightly around one of Zakk's shoulders.

“What the hell is happening?” Jawn whispered.

“Shh!” Awsten hissed. “Look.” 

Zakk’s knees seemed to give out, and he sank to the ground, both of his hands covering his face. He folded forward, lower and lower, until his forehead was pressed against the concrete. 

Awsten fumbled blindly beside himself until he found the fabric of Jawn’s t-shirt to latch onto. 

Jawn didn’t protest. He breathed, “Do you think someone died?”

But before Awsten could answer, Lucas threw his arms up into the air. “YES!” he shouted excitedly, and across his lips spread the widest smile Awsten had ever seen grace his face. “Yes! Thank you!” He looked up at the sky and let out a loud whoop. “THANK YOU!”

Jawn and Awsten exchanged a bewildered look. 

Lucas threw himself onto the ground beside Zakk and grabbed onto him, laughing wildly. “You were right! You were right, Zakk, you were right…” He roughly jostled him, bouncing a little on his knees and grinning.

Ashton and Travis came back out of the kitchen to see what all the commotion was about.

“What’s goin’ on out there?” Travis wondered.

“No idea,” Awsten and Jawn responded simultaneously. 

“Oh, god, you were right, you were right…” Lucas repeated, laughing in relief.

Zakk sat up then, and Ashton tensed at the sight of tears streaming down his cheeks. 

“You were right!” Lucas exclaimed again. The two counselors grabbed each other in a tight hug right there on the ground. “Zakk, we’re gonna be okay!” 

Zakk didn’t speak, but Lucas couldn’t seem to stop. 

“You were right, Zakk - he heard us. He heard us. An angel came.” He hugged Zakk harder. “ _Just_ in time. Wow. Oh, god, we don’t have to talk to the kids tomorrow…”

“Talk to us about what?” Ashton whispered.

Travis shrugged. “Maybe about breakfast?”

“Maybe,” Awsten smiled, but he was pretty sure Travis’ guess couldn’t have been further from reality. Whatever Zakk and Lucas were reacting to, it was something monumental. That much was clear. 

Lucas started to stand, helping Zakk to his feet, but before they could even get two steps toward the house, Zakk dragged Lucas back to the spot they’d been in. He said something the boys couldn’t hear, and then Lucas nodded. Together, they bowed their heads and, with hands on each other’s shoulders, began to pray. 

Awsten strained to hear them, but it was to no avail.

“Amen,” Zakk said after several moments.

“Amen,” Lucas grinned. 

The boys didn’t even pretend not to have witnessed… well, whatever it was they’d witnessed, but Lucas and Zakk didn’t seem to mind. In fact, it was quite the opposite; Lucas beamed at them, and Zakk dove toward the four boys for a group hug. 

No explanation was given despite the many questions that were asked. 

“Later,” Lucas kept saying, but he seemed to be having trouble wiping the smile off of his face. He ate his lunch while he wandered around the edge of the dining room in circles. “Sorry,” he kept saying. “Sorry.” But he didn’t look sorry at all. He looked positively delighted.

“Okay,” Jawn finally said. “What happened?!”

“Yeah, you can’t both just act like this and _not_ tell us,” Awsten added.

"Tell it, tell it!" Travis agreed.

Thoughtfully, Ashton asked, “It’s a happy thing, right?” 

“Yeah,” Zakk replied. His plate was still entirely full; he hadn’t managed a single bite of food.

“So why can’t we know?” 

Zakk sighed and, with a hopeful shrug, looked across the room at Lucas. “Why not? The crisis is averted, right?” 

Lucas set his wrap down on the tablecloth and wiped his hands on the sides of his shorts. 

“Are you gonna tell us?” Travis asked eagerly.

Without answering, Lucas sat down in his usual chair. “You may have noticed that Zakk and I have been a little tense lately.”

The boys nodded. 

“That’s not your fault. We’ve been under some stress, and that stress got relieved.” 

Jawn sat back in his chair, dissatisfied.

“That’s it?” Awsten demanded. “That’s all you’re going to tell us? After all that?” He motioned to the front of the house. 

“Well,” Zakk said, leaning forward, “the g-”

“Zakk,” Lucas warned.

“Dude. They deserve to know.” Without waiting for further permission, he turned back to look at the boys. “Look. The government program that was funding us cut their budget. Like, in half.”

Awsten swallowed. He knew how that went.

“More than half,” Lucas supplied quietly.

“ _More_ than half,” Zakk corrected. “And we got hit hard. They told us in February that if we couldn’t raise tens of thousands of dollars to keep the house going, they were gonna shut Peace and Purpose down at the end of June.” 

“What?!” Ashton cried. “And you didn’t tell us?!”

“How would that have helped you?” Lucas asked gently. 

“We had a right to know!” Jawn argued. “Where were we going to go?!” 

“We didn’t want to worry you,” Lucas explained, looking over all of them. “We were doing everything we could - making phone calls, writing emails, spreading the word online… All of those ‘meetings’ I was going to were because of that, too. I went to go speak at a few county commissioner hearings, and…” Lucas paused. “I told them about each of you gentlemen and how much you’ve grown since you’ve come here.” 

Zakk nodded in confirmation. 

“I care a lot about this job and helping other boys like you. But these past few months, while Zakk and I have been running numbers and applying for grants and talking to lawyers, I haven’t been thinking about my job or about other boys. I’ve just been thinking about the four of you.” 

Awsten felt a swell in his chest. Words began fighting to get out, but Awsten knew that to say them would be inappropriate. He tried to force them down. 

“Each one of you has taught me a valuable lesson. Each one of you has a big heart. Each one of you is bright and brilliant in your own way. You are all so different, but each of you has become such a big part of our lives, and we just want the best for you. So it was hard to know that everything we did wasn’t enough." He glanced around the table.“We were going to tell you tomorrow that we were being shut down and we’d been looking into new homes for each of you. But then today, something came in the mail.” 

The boys all stared at Lucas curiously.

“Someone came across a post online and read about our need. They mailed us a check - a very, _very_ generous check - and a promise. They’re going to close the funding gap… for now and into the future.” 

Zakk covered his face again, and Ashton leaned over to give the counselor a hug. 

“Who was it?” Travis asked. 

“We don’t know,” Lucas responded. “They didn’t write their name in their letter, and there’s no return address on the envelope. They don’t want us to know who they are. And that’s okay. We’re just incredibly thankful for what they’ve done.”

“Can we write them a thank you note?” Awsten asked immediately.

“I think that’s a great idea,” Lucas smiled. “I’m sure they’d love that.” 

“We could make a video,” Jawn suggested.

“Yeah!” Awsten grinned. "We can-"

“We can’t put your faces online,” Lucas told them regretfully. “But I love that you want to thank them. Zakk and I want to thank them, too. We were counting the days until you guys were gone, and we were so upset. Our whole lives are in this house, and right now, so are yours. We didn’t any of us to have to lose that.”

“I need to say something,” Awsten said suddenly. 

All heads turned to look at him. 

He stared down at his half-eaten wrap. “I know I didn’t want to come here at first, but I… I’m glad I did.” 

The room was quiet.

The sentiment was still bursting to try to get out of Awsten’s chest, so before anyone else decided to speak, he confessed, “I really love all you guys.” 

“I love you guys, too,” Ashton echoed.

“Yeah, me, too,” Jawn said. 

“I love you, and you, and you-” Travis began, pointing around the table as he spoke. 

“Okay, okay,” Lucas laughed. “Thank you, gentlemen. You’re very sweet.” 

“You and Zakk are the best,” Jawn said to Lucas. 

“Yeah, the best,” Ashton agreed. 

Lucas laughed as Zakk started to cry all over again.

 

* * *

 

 **Peace and Purpose Home for Young Men - Entry**  
**May 11, 2:07 PM**

“This section is called The Boy Who Walks In the Light,” Mr. W murmured. “It begins ‘Los Angeles, California; Republic of America; population: twenty million, one hundred and seventy-four thousand, two hundred and eighty-two.’”

“Whoa,” Ashton breathed. 

Awsten drew a knee up to his chest as he leaned against Mr. W’s side. He smiled to himself as Mr. W positioned the book a little more to the left so that Awsten could see it better.

“My mother thinks I’m dead.”

Although Awsten could see the words on the page, he still raised his eyebrows at the stark beginning. 

“Obviously I’m not dead, but it’s safer for her to think so,” Mr. W continued. “At least twice a month, I see my Wanted poster flashed on the JumboTrons scattered throughout downtown Los Angeles. It looks out of place up there. Most of the pictures on the screens are of happy things: smiling children standing under a bright blue sky, tourists posing before the Golden Gate Ruins, Republic commercials in neon colors. There’s also anti-Colonies propaganda.”

_“The Colonies want our land, ” the ads declare. “They want what they don’t have. Don’t let them conquer your homes! Support the cause!”_

_Then there’s my criminal report. It lights up the JumboTrons in all its multicolored glory:_

_WANTED BY THE REPUBLIC_  
_FILE NO: 462178-3233_  
_“DAY”_  
\------------------------------------–  
_WANTED FOR ASSAULT, ARSON, THEFT, DESTRUCTION OF MILITARY PROPERTY, AND HINDERING THE WAR EFFORT  
_ _200,000 REPUBLIC NOTES FOR INFORMATION LEADING TO ARREST_

_They always have a different photo running alongside the report. One time it was a boy with glasses and a head full of thick copper curls. Another time it was a boy with black eyes and no hair at all. Sometimes I’m black, sometimes white, sometimes olive or brown or yellow or red or whatever else they can think of. In other words, the Republic has no idea what I look like._

_They don’t seem to know much of anything about me, except that I’m young and that when they run my fingerprints they don’t find a match in their databases. That’s why they hate me, why I’m not the most dangerous criminal in the country, but the most wanted. I make them look bad._

_It’s early evening, but it’s already pitch-black outside, and the JumboTrons’ reflections are visible in the street’s puddles. I sit on a crumbling window ledge three stories up, hidden from view behind rusted steel beams. This used to be an apartment complex, but it’s fallen into disrepair. Broken lanterns and glass shards litter the floor of this room, and paint is peeling from every wall. In one corner, an old portrait of the Elector Primo lies face up on the ground. I wonder who used to live here—no one’s cracked enough to let their portrait of the Elector sit discarded on the floor like that._

_My hair, as usual, is tucked inside an old newsboy cap. My eyes are fixed on the small one story house across the road. My hands fiddle with the pendant tied around my neck. Tess leans against the room’s other window, watching me closely. I’m restless tonight and, as always, she can sense it. The plague has hit the Lake sector hard._

_In the glow of the JumboTrons, Tess and I can see the soldiers at the end of the street as they inspect each home, their black capes shiny and worn loose in the heat. Each of them wears a gas mask. Sometimes when they emerge, they mark a house by painting a big red X on the front door. No one enters or leaves the home after that—at least, not when anyone’s looking._

_“Still don’t see them?” Tess whispers. Shadows conceal her expression._

_In an attempt to distract myself, I’m piecing together a makeshift slingshot out of old PVC pipes. “They haven’t eaten dinner. They haven’t sat down by the table in hours.” I shift and stretch out my bad knee._

_“Maybe they’re not home?”_

_I shoot Tess an irritated glance. She’s trying to console me, but I’m not in the mood. “A lamp’s lit. Look at those candles. Mom would never waste candles if no one was home.”_

_Tess moves closer. “We should leave the city for a couple weeks, yeah?” She tries to keep her voice calm, but the fear is there. “Soon the plague will have blown through, and you can come back to visit. We have more than enough money for two train tickets.”_

_I shake my head. “One night a week, remember? Just let me check up on them one night a week.”_

_“Yeah. You’ve been coming here every night this week.”_

_“I just want to make sure they’re okay.”_

_“What if you get sick?”_

_“I’ll take my chances. And you didn’t have to come with me. You could’ve waited for me back in Alta.”_

_Tess shrugs. “Somebody has to keep an eye on you.” Two years younger than me — although sometimes she sounds old enough to be my caretaker._

_We look on in silence as the soldiers draw closer to my family’s house. Every time they stop at a home, one soldier pounds on the door while a second stands next to him with his gun drawn. If no one opens the door within ten seconds, the first soldier kicks it in. I can’t see them once they rush inside, but I know the drill: a soldier will draw a blood sample from each family member, then plug it into a handheld reader and check for the plague. The whole process takes ten minutes._

_I count the houses between where the soldiers are now and where my family lives. I’ll have to wait another hour before I know their fate._

 

* * *

**Petekey Memorial Hospital - Rian's Office**  
**May 16, 3:00 PM**

Awsten had barely sat down on Rian’s couch when Rian pointed the end of his pen at him. “What happened to your arm?”

“What?” Awsten asked confusedly, looking down at it. His eyes landed on a yellowing bruise by his elbow. “Oh,” he smiled and pushed his sleeve up so Rian could see the darker one closer to his shoulder. “Uh, me and Jawn were wrestling.” 

Rian’s eyebrows rose.

“It wasn’t a big deal or anything. He just - it was more of a fucking around thing than an actual fighting thing. He said something dumb, and I jumped on him, and…” Awsten shrugged. 

“What did Lucas have to say about that?” Rian asked skeptically.

“Well, it was Zakk that found us. He came in all mad, and he was like, ‘Hey, stop it!’” Awsten imitated, and then he put his hands on his hips like Zakk had done. “‘You’re lucky it’s me and not Lucas in here!’” 

“You probably were.”

Awsten smiled a little. “Yeah. He didn’t get us in trouble or anything. He just told us to knock it off. Me and Jawn just laughed about it after he left.”

“Hm. So you two are getting along a little bit better, then?”

“Um… yeah, I guess,” Awsten agreed. “Kind of a lot better, actually. We don’t really fight at all anymore. I think he’s chilled out a lot.”

"Do you think you’ve chilled out a lot, too?” Rian inquired.

Awsten faltered. “Uh. I mean… yeah.” 

“How?”

Awsten shrugged. “I’m used to him now. I don’t get so freaked out about every single thing he does that annoys me.” 

Rian nodded. 

“We've always sat next to each other at the table, but now we've started swapping food sometimes. We can’t always, cause if Lucas and Zakk are paying attention, we'll get in trouble. But sometimes Lucas gets up from the table and Zakk is talking to Travis or something, so.”

“What do you do?”

“What, with the food?”

“Yeah. How does it work?”

“Like, if he likes something I don’t, I’ll eat everything except that, and then we’ll switch plates so he can eat mine.” 

“So it doesn’t always have to be a trade,” Rian observed. 

“Yeah, but usually it’s like… He really likes baked beans, and I think they’re fucking gross, so he’ll leave his broccoli for last since I like that, and then we’ll trade them. But yeah, not always.” 

“Hm.”  There was a pause, and then Rian suggested, “How was your morning?” 

“It was fine,” Awsten replied, and then he smiled to himself. 

“What?” 

“Nothing, just… Um, so, Lucas and Zakk are - you know that nerd show Game of Thrones?” 

“I know it, yes.”

“Do you watch it?”

“Do you?” Rian asked instead of answering.

“Nah. But apparently, Lucas and Zakk do, because… See, I had to go to the bathroom during school, right, so I got up and I was walking toward the kitchen, and they didn’t know I was there. I could hear them talking about the show, and so I stopped to listen, because we never talk about fucking anything other than what’s going on with the house and, like, church. Which is lame as hell. So I was listening, and then all of a sudden, Zakk threw something at Lucas and yelled ‘En garde!’” Awsten chuckled at the memory.

“Oh, wow,” Rian smiled. 

“I thought I was imaging it, so I peeked around the corner, and they were in there like, doing all this dumb stuff. And Zakk was saying he was gonna be Jon Snow - that’s the guy from all the posters, right?” 

“I believe so.”

“And that Lucas had to be the girl with the long hair and the dragons. But Lucas got mad about that, and he kept saying he wanted to be somebody else. I don’t remember who. And then they kept arguing, but then Zakk said something like, ‘What do you say about death?’ and Lucas was like, ‘Not today!’ And they started sword fighting with paper towel rolls!” 

“What?” Rian chuckled. 

“Yeah! I think that's what Zakk threw at him. Like, an empty paper towel roll. They were whacking them together and running around the room. It was hilarious.” He covered his face with his hands, laughing out loud. “I’ve never seen them like that, so it was cool. Well, Zakk didn’t really surprise me that much. But Lucas did, especially with how he was arguing about which character he wanted to be. It was like a little kid.” 

“Lots of adults have little children trapped inside them,” Rian said with a small smile. 

“I hope I’m never like that.”

“I don’t think you will be,” Rian mused.  

Awsten grinned. 

“Speaking of school, do you have finals coming up? And how have your grades been?” Rian asked, moving on. 

“Better. Still not… not like Otto’s, but I’m getting Bs on stuff.”

“That’s great!” 

“Well, they’re making me actually do the work.” 

“That does help, doesn’t it?” Rian teased.

“A little," Awsten replied with a sigh. "And yeah, finals... I have four - a project for history, a paper for Mr. W, a math test, and a physics test.”

"Are you ready for them?"

Awsten grimaced. "Not yet."

“Okay. You still have some time, but graduation is coming up pretty quickly. Just a few weeks, right?” 

Awsten nodded.

“How are you feeling about it?” 

“Good.” And he was, but… 

“Just good?” Rian wondered. “I thought you’d be more excited. You seemed to be really looking forward to moving on from school. And from Peace and Purpose.”

“I am.” 

Rian was quiet as he waited for him to elaborate.

Awsten wondered how much he should say. If it were up to him, he’d say nothing. “I don’t want to talk about it.”  

“I think it’s important,” Rian countered gently. 

“You said I’ll keep coming to talk to you after I leave,” Awsten pointed out.

“Yes, but I think it’s important that we talk about what’s been going through your head. This is a big transition - just as big as when you came to Peace and Purpose.”  

“No,” Awsten snorted. 

“No? Why not?” 

“Cause I know where I’m going, and I know the people I’ll be with.”

“True. You’ve also settled into a strict routine,” Rian countered, “and a new network of people. You’ve had a concrete, strong support system around you twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, for multiple months. You’ve stayed busy, you’ve been away from the physical location of the incident-” 

Awsten winced at the phrase Rian had picked up from him. “Okay, okay.”

“-and you seem to be thriving,” Rian continued, despite the interruption. “You’re doing really well there, Awsten, whether you realize it or not. I know that you’re anxious to get back to your ‘normal’ life and spend time with Otto, but I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a part of you that didn’t feel like leaving is such a great idea.” He looked evenly at Awsten. “So what do you think?”

“I’m ready,” he repeated defensively. 

Rian nodded. “Okay.” 

There was more quiet. Awsten’s eyes wandered over to the sand tray, which had moved from its normal place to a different shelf. Awsten wondered if someone had used it in a session earlier in the day. 

“What are your plans after graduation?” Rian asked.  

Awsten shrugged. A bad feeling settled into the pit of his stomach. That was the problem, right there; what the absolute fuck was Awsten going to do after graduation?  

He’d had a handful of jobs - bagging at the grocery store, cooking at the burger place, working the cash register at the donut place - and each one had been worse (and shorter-lived) than the last. But what choice did he have?

“You look anxious,” Rian observed. 

“I’m not,” Awsten spat immediately.  

Rian adjusted in his chair. “What are you thinking about?”  

 _I hate life. There’s no point in doing any of this. I don’t want to be little again, but I don’t want to grow up either._ “I don’t know.”   

Rian was quiet.

_Why couldn’t I be smart like Otto? Or at least have a clear goal like Otto’s dad. He didn’t go to college, but he’s doing okay._

_I wish I could start over._

“We’re making Mexican for dinner tonight,” Awsten blurted out instead.

“That sounds good.”

Awsten nodded.

“But let’s talk about this. I know it’s uncomfortable, but this is important. I let you put it off the last two weeks, and that’s fine. But we’re getting down to the wire here.” 

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” he sighed in frustration.

“Whatever you’re thinking. Good, bad, uncertain…”

“Uncertain,” Awsten repeated. 

“Okay. Have you and Lucas or Zakk talked about options?”  

He shrugged. Lucas had tried, and Rian had tried, but Awsten kept shutting them down. 

“Transitions are never easy. But if we prepare for them, they can be a lot less stressful than if we go into them blind.”

“I’ll figure it out when I get there,” Awsten said, forcing a grin, “like I always do.”

 “Do you have an idea of what sort of job you want to have once you’re an adult? Or do you have a career in mind?”

“Nope,” Awsten smiled. “I’m a free bird.”  

“That has its benefits.” 

“Mm-hmm.” 

“But it can also be good to narrow things down a little. Do you want to be a mechanic, or a teacher, or a writer? Do you want to further your education? Is there anything you know you _don’t_ want to do? That can be a good starting place.”

Awsten drummed his fingers absently on his knee. “I don’t want to work in a high school,” he answered quietly. “Ever.”  

“Okay. What else don’t you want to do?”

“I don’t want to work in fast food. That was worse than I thought it was going to be.” 

“Okay, good. Good.”  

Rian had started writing again, and Awsten ignored him. “I don’t want to have a bunch of people in charge of me. A couple people is okay. But not a lot. And I don’t want to work with numbers, like an accountant or a… I don’t know who else works with numbers.” 

Rian smiled. “That’s okay. I know what you mean.”

"I don't want to do something boring. I hate how school is just the same thing over and over again. I don't want to sit at a desk all day." Awsten fell quiet. He looked over at the sand tray again, and this time, Rian followed his eyes.

“Do you want to play with that?” 

Awsten nodded. 

“Okay.” Rian stood up and brought it over. They both sat on the floor. 

Awsten picked up a Lego and walked it around the edge of the tray. For several moments, the room was quiet. But then-

“I kind of know how I feel,” Awsten muttered, not looking away from the sand. “Like, about leaving Peace and Purpose.” 

“Okay.”  

“I just don’t want to tell you.” 

“Okay.”  

Awsten glanced up and noticed Rian softly smiling. “What?” he asked, shifting uncomfortably.

“I’m just thinking about how you find ways to communicate with me. Even when you don’t want to, you still find a way. Not everyone can do that. I think that’s a great skill to have.” 

Awsten shrugged and turned his attention back to the plastic toys in the sand tray. Without thinking about it, he began constructing a scene that resembled the Peace and Purpose dining room during a meal.  

Again, Rian watched him silently. 

Once the table was done and there were six Lego people around it, Awsten moved to the other end of the tray and started a different dining room scene - this one with four Legos sitting around the table.  

“Tell me something good that’s happened since I saw you last week,” Rian prompted.  

One of the Legos at the smaller table tipped over sideways. Awsten righted it. “I started learning sign language so I could talk to Nate.”

“Nate… he’s the deaf boy from bible study, right?”

Awsten smiled emptily as he worked some more on the Legos. “He doesn’t sound right when you say it that way.”

“What do you mean?” 

“He’s a big, muscly dude. He’s got a buzz cut, and he never smiles. And he runs really fast.” 

“I remember.” 

“It just sounds wrong when you call him ‘the deaf boy.’ He’s a mixed-martial arts fighter. ‘The deaf boy’ sounds like a shy guy who sits in the corner all the time and wears clothes that are too big for him.” 

“That’s your interpretation,” Rian pointed out. 

Awsten shrugged. “Anyway, since I finished my book, I got Lucas to let me use the computer during quiet time so I could look up some sign language stuff. Like, really basic, like how to say hi and how are you and that shit. Ashton came in while I was doing it, and then he went and got Jawn and Travis, and we all learned it and practiced together. I kept doing it every day, andI kept learning a lot more. And then on Wednesday, I went up to Nate, and me and him talked a little. He could tell I only knew a little, so he started spelling the words for me, and I kind of learned the letters, so I kind of understood it. Zoey - that’s his sister - she came over and was helping me. And Nate sort of talked to me while he signed, too, so I could understand him better. He’s really quiet, and it’s hard to get what he’s saying, but Zoey told me that it’s something he only does if he’s comfortable around you, so that was cool.” 

“That _is_ cool.” 

Awsten smiled a little. He dragged his finger through the sand and reached for two more Legos and a small square.

“What did you two talk about?”  

“Um, I just said hi and asked how he was, and then I said I think the pizza is good and that Jon is funny.” He shook his head. “While it was happening, I realized the whole idea was pretty dumb, because he can read lips, like, fucking perfectly. But then once I finished what I was saying to him, he signed ‘thank you’ like three times, so I guess he liked it.”

“I’m sure it meant a lot to him. You’re communicating with him in his language instead of making him try to communicate in yours.” 

“Yeah, that’s what Lucas said, too,” Awsten nodded. 

“Are you glad you did it?” 

“Uh-huh.”

“And do you think you’ll keep practicing?”

“Yeah. Just until I don’t have bible study anymore, cause I don’t know anybody else who’s deaf. And it’s hard to keep track of all the signs.” 

Rian resumed scribbling on his notepad, so Awsten started sifting through the plastic toys in search of the black cat. Once he found it, he put it in the corner of the box.  

“Will you tell me what you made?” Rian asked when he finished writing. 

“That’s the table at Peace and Purpose.” He pointed at each Lego around the biggest table and explained, “That’s me and Jawn and Zakk and Travis and Ash and Lucas.” Then he pointed at the medium table. “That’s me and Otto’s family.” He wrapped his arms around his knees.

“And what about the cat?”  

“That’s Michael.” 

“What’s he doing?” 

Awsten shrugged. It hadn’t really felt right to leave him out of the scene, but he wasn’t serving much of a purpose. 

“What’s this over here?” Rian asked, pointing at a square with one Lego person beside it and another Lego person off to the side.  

“That’s me.”  

“What are you doing?” 

“Eating at home.”  

“Home… the house you lived in before you went to stay with Otto and his family?”

 “Uh-huh.” 

“Is that someone with you?”

“Mm-hmm.”  

“Who?”

“Uh, my mom.” 

Rian’s expression softened. “I see. Why?”  

Awsten shrugged. 

Rian was quiet as he waited for Awsten to explain.  

“She just, um…” He looked away. “I don’t know. I just put her there.” 

“Are you missing her?” 

“No.”  

“Are you thinking about her?” 

“Nope.” 

“Then why put her in the tray?” 

Awsten smiled emptily. “I don’t know.” 

“She’s not sitting with you at the table. She’s sitting kind of far away from you.” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“But she’s still in the room.” 

“Yeah.”

“What’s she doing there?” 

“I don’t know,” Awsten repeated. 

“Is she taking care of you?” 

With a tired sigh, he reached forward to take her out of the sand, but Rian stopped him. 

“Okay. Okay. We can leave her alone.” 

Awsten nodded and sat back. 

“Do you want to say anything else about anything in the tray?”

He shook his head. 

“Alright. May I make an observation about the cat, then?” 

“Okay,” Awsten agreed. He swiped at his nose with the back of his hand. 

“It seems almost like Michael is… watching you.”  

Awsten looked at him confusedly. 

“I don’t know if that was your intention or not, but because of the way the cat is positioned, he can clearly see you at whichever table you’re sitting at.”  

Awsten swallowed thickly. That sounded fucking ominous.  

“Did you do that on purpose?” 

He shook his head. 

“What do you think ab-”

With no warning, Awsten reached forward and smacked the side of his hand into the small table and the toys representing both his mom and himself, knocking them over. Then he yanked  them and the cat out of the sand and threw them angrily aside. 

He could feel Rian staring at him, so he ducked his head down, burying it in his knees. 

“I can see that this is painful for you,” Rian stated quietly. 

“No,” Awsten replied angrily. 

“What are you feeling right now?” 

He growled, “Nothing.”  

“I don’t believe that,” Rian admitted gently. 

Awsten didn’t respond. 

“I’m not going to press this today, but in a few weeks, we’ll try again. We need to talk about your mother.” 

“No, we don’t.” Without looking up, Awsten kicked at the sand tray.  

“Yes, we do,” Rian decided.  

Awsten wanted to declare that he was quitting therapy, but he knew that once he was back with the Woods, he’d feel obligated to at least pretend that he was doing something to help himself. Then that horrible, government-assigned therapist he’d seen for two or three minutes flickered through his mind, and he decided to keep his mouth shut.  

“I know it may not feel like it at this moment,” Rian said, “but you’re doing really well right now.” 

Awsten snorted.

“It’s true. But let’s talk about something else. Does that sound good?” 

“Can I leave? That would be fucking good.”

“Not yet.”  

“Hmmph,” Awsten muttered into his knee. 

Rian flipped through his notepad and then inquired, “Have you still been having that dream? The one about the bridge?”

“Uh… sometimes, yeah.” 

“I want to discuss it again, if that’s okay with you.”

Awsten shrugged. “Kay.” Better than anything about Michael or his mom. 

“Let’s talk about that feeling.”

Awsten nodded, already knowing what Rian was referring to. 

“Can you put a word to it?”  

Awsten shook his head. 

“Try,” Rian encouraged. “Give me some that kind of describe it. Maybe we can come up with one that sums it up.”

Wearily, he lifted his head. “I don’t know, it’s just like… relief. I’m calm. And there’s, um, I guess happiness. E…xhiliaration. Freedom.” He nodded. “It feels like freedom.” 

“Great, Awsten. Thank you. Okay, so… do you feel freedom in other dreams?” 

“No.”

“What about in real life? Do you feel free?”

He smiled emptily. “Never.”

 

* * *

 

 _ Awsten Knight _  
_First Period Senior English_  
_Final Essay 2014_

_ The Five People You Meet in Heaven by Mitch Albom is a story about death and what happens after it. In this book we read about a man named Eddie who dies a couple of pages in and goes to heaven. The rest of the book talks about what happened after. And it made me think alot even after a long time which is why I picked it for my final essay. _

_ My favorite part was when he met the man with the blue skin from the freak show. It was sad that Eddie did something that made him die. I know how bad that feels cause I think I’ve done that more than once but sometimes I guess that’s just how life works. We all go through things, if you don’t go through anything, you must be doing something wrong. It’s okay. The man with the blue skin was important to Eddie’s story because he showed Eddie that sometimes things we think are nothing, like going to get a baseball that rolled away, can end with something big, like somebody dying. And that you can go through you're whole life and never even know it. After I read this book I was worried a little that I would do something again like that. But I don’t think about it so much anymore. _

_ When I was looking back through the book to write this I found a part I thought Lucas would like. Eddie was asking Ruby from the pier about why he died ~~and stuff~~ and if he can go back to earth and why he doesn’t have peace since he’s dead but he doesn’t feel very peaceful. And then it says, “‘You have peace,’ the old woman said, ‘when you make it with yourself’” (48). I think Lucas would like that because it’s probably true. He’s always talking about how we have to decide for ourselves how we feel and he says other people can’t make us feel anything or do anything. They can give us information that can change what we think or the situation we’re in but its up to us how to react. I think Ruby is right about that, I just wish someone had told Eddie that earlier. I think he could have lived differently. Like maybe he wouldn’t have let his dad get to him so much you know? His dad sounds like mine and his mom sucked too but in a different way. I think his mom should have done more to help him and his brother. I know it was a different time so maybe she didn’t think she could leave him but maybe she could have tried to keep them away from him more or talk to him about how he was being so mean. I’m pretty sure that’s what I would have done.  _

_ A while ago you asked me what I thought about this book and I think I said I had alot to say, now that I’m supposed to write it, I can’t think of any of it. It’s easier for me to do it when I’m actually talking to you.  _

_ The part with the war was hard to read. And the parts about his dad. But it made sense why the author put it in. First off, he wanted to show that Eddie had a hard life. And second off, he needed us to understand why Eddie acted so tough all the time even around the kids. He just wanted to be nice to them but something about his brain wouldn’t let him. He’d been through alot ~~of bullshit~~ and he wasn’t supposed to be soft or nice and make them animals out of pipe cleaners he was supposed to be strong and work hard. But he kind of found a way to do both. I liked that about him.  _

_ This book was important to me because it helped me deal with what happened at school. I was scared at first to read it and I thought it would be boring and about god or something but when I started it, it wasn’t so bad. And then I liked it and I finished it really fast. It was the fastest I’ve ever read a book before. Every time Eddie met someone new I got nervous but at the end it all made sense why they all talked to him and then it wasn't so scary. ~~Accept~~ Except when he met the little girl, that was sad. I wasn't expecting that. _

_ I think more people should read this book because it can help them understand that everyone around them is livinga whole life too, not just them. The people that take tickets at the movie theater have a mom and a dad and the person who fixes you're car has a best friend and the lady that takes you're order at a restaurant probably didn’t want to work at a restaurant but maybe she has to right now and maybe someday she’ll get out of the restaurant and maybe someday she won’t. That’s why I bring coffee to school. I’m sorry Mr. W I know you said to stop doing that and I didn’t do it again after that. Well that one day I tried to but I didn’t actually get it in to class. Anyway the point is you never know what someone’s going through because they hide it. Just like Eddie hid what his family was like and the people he met in heaven hid what they were like too when they were on earth. And you never know if what you can do will have a big impact on someone whether you mean for it to or not. You should do the right thing. Take five seconds and be nice you know? They might be hurting inside even if they don't want you to see it so you have to do what you can to help and all I knew is to bring them coffee. It's like how you read us books when we're sad. ~~Tha~~ _

_ Brendon says this isn’t even close to formal enough but I know you’ll understand. I know you think I never listened in class (and sometimes I really didn’t, I’m sorry) but I heard you at the beginning of the year when you told us how it matters to you what we think. And this is what I think and I wanted you to know it even if I suck at putting commas in the right places. Also I wrote the word BS earlier but I cut it out so you should give me an extra point for that please. _

 

* * *

**Peace and Purpose Home for Young Men**  
**May 21, 2:14 AM**

Awsten stumbled across the landing to Lucas’ door and knocked. The noise was much louder than Awsten had intended for it to be. 

“Hey,” came Lucas’ immediate but groggy reply through the wall. “Is everything okay?” 

Awsten couldn’t find it in himself to respond, because no, everything _wasn’t_ okay. He knew that if he opened his mouth, anything could come out, so he pressed his lips tighter together and waited. He heard the mattress creak and the sound of feet on the floor. 

“Who is it?” Lucas called.

Awsten still didn’t answer.

“Okay. Hang on one second. I’m coming. Hold on…” Lucas’ door swung open a moment later. His hair was down, and he was wearing his glasses again and the same Dodgers pajama pants he’d had on the night Awsten woke everyone up screaming. “Awsten,” he said in surprise, his eyebrows rising. “Are you alright?”

“I - I need to talk to you…” Awsten mumbled, shrinking into himself and wrapping his arms around his own stomach. 

“Okay. Let’s go down to the office.”

Awsten nodded miserably.

Lucas led the way down the stairs, and when Awsten walked into the tiny office behind him, Lucas closed the door. “What’s going on?” he asked. After he spoke, he lightly cleared his throat. 

Awsten didn’t speak. 

“Have you gotten any sleep?”

Awsten hesitated and then shook his head.

“Why not?”

“Didn’t want to,” Awsten replied quietly, shrugging one shoulder. 

“What have you been doing all night?” 

Awsten’s answer came in a whisper. “Thinking.” 

“Thinking about what?” 

Awsten shrugged again, and tears flooded his eyes. 

“Awsten,” Lucas said gently, “tell me what’s going on.”

And that was all it took. Awsten leaned forward, buried his face in his hands, and began to sob. 

Every emotion that he had been suppressing for weeks poured out in his tears. 

There was dull pain from years of his parents’ abuse, something he shouldn't have had to accept but did anyway. He lived in fear, in secrecy, in agony and called it "normal" and "okay." There was the shock of what had happened at school with Michael and the gun, seeing violence and hatred and death right up close, right in front of his eyes, and feeling that same death on his hands and tasting it on his tongue. There was the heartache of being separated from Otto, the only person he truly trusted, and the confusion over his entire life being uprooted in a matter of hours. 

There was the strangeness of his mom's suicide; he felt like the worst son in the world, but how could he mourn someone so vindictive and hateful? Mother or not, how could he be expected to love someone like her? Then there was the anger at his father, the man who was supposed to be an example for him but only served as the example of everything Awsten never wanted to be. Both of them had been ruined by alcohol - no, they'd ruined themselves - and Awsten was the one who had been forced to suffer the consequences.

And on top of all of that, there was the question of what the hell Awsten's life was supposed to look like moving forward. He hadn't the slightest clue. He hadn't really expected to live as long as he had. 

“Awsten, what are you feeling right now?” Lucas asked calmly after Awsten had been sobbing for several seconds. 

“Everyth-thing…” 

“What are some specifics? What are you thinking about?” 

He sniffed loudly. “School.”

“What about school?” Lucas pressed, and suddenly, there was a box of Kleenex in Awsten’s lap. 

“Michael.” Awsten tugged a tissue out and dried his cheeks with it, but the tears kept coming. “What his body looked like, and how I should have tried harder to stop him. And don’t say I shouldn’t have, because I fucking should have.”

Lucas nodded slowly. “What else are you thinking about?” 

He looked hopelessly up at Lucas, not caring about the fact that his red eyes and tear stains must have made him look pathetic. “How come I didn’t get to have a normal family? I-” He balled up his fists, crushing the Kleenex. “All of this could have been avoided. _All_ of it. If I could have just had a good family, I wouldn’t have to be here. _They_ could take care of me…” 

A weak whimper burst out of him, and he closed his eyes, letting the sobs shake free. “Every time I see a guy my age with his parents, I get so mad. It’s all I wanted when I was a kid, and I thought I’d grow out of it, but I don’t know if I ever will. And then you make us go to church, and Jon tells us that God loves us and he wants the best for us, but how the hell is this the best? If he’s really up there, and he’s really as powerful as you guys say he is, why couldn’t he have made my parents nice? How hard would that have been for him? 

“Th-this one time, when I was like seven, my mom stopped drinking for a couple days. And she made me a ham and cheese sandwich in the middle of the afternoon.” Awsten had never told this story, not even once. But he thought about it sometimes. “I don’t fuck with ham, but how would she know, you know? I ate the whole goddamn thing. Every bite. I wasn’t even hungry, but it was the best fucking sandwich I ever had, cause she sat at the table with me and told me that she loved me and said how sorry she was.” 

He shot Lucas an angry glare. “How is that the best? I get one good memory of my mom. One, out of my whole entire life, but at least one exists, so Jesus gets a pass? I don’t think so. She hated me, and she wasted her whole life drinking. She and my dad both used to say I was the worst thing that ever happened to them, and I agree. I’m the worst thing that ever happened to me, too. I wish I’d never been born. So where the fuck is God, huh?” 

Lucas opened his mouth to speak, but Awsten wasn’t finished. 

“I didn’t deserve any of that shit my parents did to me,” he decided, his voice rising. “Yeah, I was a bad kid, but that was _their_ fault, not mine! I just wanted someone to actually care about me for five seconds. Is that a crime?! God! I fucking-”

He reached up to yank mercilessly on the ends of his hair as a particularly rough sob emerged. “Do you know how hard it is to sit in church and listen to everybody agreeing that God is good? Why would he make my life like this? There’s no God, Lucas! And if there is, he’s nothing like what you say he is! He’s not good! He’s _cruel!_ And Michael is _dead!_ So I’m supposed to believe that God chose for Michael to fucking kill himself in front of me because it’s all some ‘plan’? I don’t think so! I didn’t deserve that!”

“No, you didn’t,” Lucas said, finally breaking into the monologue when Awsten paused for breath. 

“So why the fuck did it happen?” he demanded, his face contorting as he cried. “Lucas, why? Why did Michael do that to me? Why didn’t he just fucking kill me?!” 

“I don’t know,” Lucas whispered. 

“I wish he had!” Awsten cried. 

Lucas didn’t even make an attempt to quiet him as he shouted. 

“I wish I was dead! I think about it every goddamn day! There’s no point in me staying alive. I’m not going to be anything, and I’m not going to do anything worthwhile, so why not just - just spare me the… the pain, you know?” 

“We can’t know what the future has in store.”

“Well, I know enough. I’m a piece of shit like my parents said. I’m not gonna be anything.”

“Don’t you want to prove them wrong?” 

Awsten sighed angrily. “I’m too tired.”

“Tired?” Lucas echoed.

“Tired of living.”

“Are you thinking about hurting yourself?”

Awsten snorted. “No.” 

“Okay. I have to ask.” 

Awsten wasn’t sure what to say after that. He grabbed a dry tissue and blew his nose. “Ugh,” he muttered. 

“Awsten, what… prompted this?” 

“I just can’t take it anymore,” he replied candidly.

Lucas watched him closely. “What do you mean?”

“Too much. Feels like I can’t breathe.” 

Lucas nodded. 

“It’s like you said, I guess," he admitted grudgingly. "It just… I fucking bottled it up, and now it’s all coming out.” 

“And how does it feel?”

“I don’t know,” Awsten murmured sadly, starting to cry again. He didn’t fight it. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know,” he said again, hopelessly this time. “I’m just sorry.” 

“Well,” Lucas replied, “there’s no need to apologize. You haven’t done anything wrong.” 

Awsten nodded. “I’m really sad,” he whispered to himself. With tear-filled eyes, he looked up at Lucas. “Can you come sit by me?” 

Lucas got up and moved a few feet over from the office chair to fill the space beside Awsten on the couch. 

“That story is bullshit, you know,” Awsten murmured. “The one about the footprints in the sand.”

“Why do you say that?” 

“It’s contradictory. You want us to do all this work trying to get better, but then you say God will just pick us up and carry us. It doesn’t work like that.”

“I think that-”

Awsten interrupted with venom in his voice. “God’s not real, and he’s not carrying me. _I’m_ carrying me.” 

Lucas didn’t speak.

Without planning to, Awsten leaned into Lucas’ side. He felt Lucas stiffen beneath him, and he quickly sat back up, regret and embarrassment tangling in his stomach. Where was Otto? Awsten needed a fucking hug. 

“I’m sorry,” Lucas murmured. “We’re not supposed to touch you guys.” 

_You gentlemen,_ Awsten wanted to correct snidely, but he was too upset. He started to stand, wanting nothing more than to get out of the room, but Lucas quickly stopped him. 

“No, no… Don’t leave. Here. Sit back down. I’ll move.” And he did. He made his way back to the office chair, and Awsten collapsed back onto the couch.

“I want to go home,” Awsten pleaded. “I want to see my mom…”

“You know,” Lucas said softly, “you still have time. You mentioned having one good memory with her. But there’s still time to create more. I know that depends greatly on her, but - Awsten? What’s wrong?”

Awsten was shaking his head wildly, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I meant my new mom, not my real mom. Lucas, I don’t want to see her. I don’t want to.”

“It was just an idea,” Lucas said softly. “You don’t have to see her if you don’t want to. You’ll be eighteen very soon, and-”

“She’ll look like Michael! I don’t want to see her. I don’t want to!”

“What do you mean, she’ll look like Michael?” Lucas asked confusedly.

“Her head,” Awsten moaned, a hand rising to cover his face. “I don’t want to see her head…”

“Awsten, what are you talking about?”

Oh. Lucas… Lucas didn’t know. 

Awsten suddenly found his words caught in his throat. He knew exactly what he had to say to get Lucas to understand, but he hadn’t said the words out loud yet, and if he said them out loud, it would make them real. He didn’t even care about her being gone, but he somehow found himself trapped in grieving what their relationship could have been, _should_ have been, just enough that it still ached. And the chaos of the other emotions attacking him all at once was just aggravating the situation.

“My…” Awsten let out a loud sob. 

“Shh, Awsten,” Lucas said gently. "Take another minute to breathe."

“My…”

“Shh… Slow your breathing. It’s okay.”

But he couldn’t; he had to get the words out right then. He was desperate for someone to know, desperate for someone to comfort him, to fucking help him catch his breath. The emotion he was feeling wasn’t sadness over the woman who had hurt him so badly for so long. He was mourning what he’d missed out on and what he felt he deserved. He was grieving for the mother he’d wanted, for the child that was still trapped inside of him. 

“My m-mom is dead.”

Lucas blinked. “What? No, she isn’t.”

“Yes, she is,” Awsten sobbed.

“No, Awsten, she-”

“Yes, she _is_!” he yelled, looking up at Lucas with furious, watery eyes. “She’s fucking dead! She killed herself!” 

“Awsten, your mother-”

“I begged them not to tell you! Ask Rian; he knows. Or ask my mom; she’s the one who came to therapy and told me. You dropped me off, so you didn’t see her. You weren’t there!” 

“Awsten-”

“I’m telling you the fucking truth!” Awsten cried. 

Lucas held both hands up, waiting until Awsten calmed a little before he spoke. 

Awsten took a deep, shuddering breath. 

As soon as Lucas was convinced that Awsten had relaxed, he asked, “When did this happen?”

“I don’t know. All the days run together.” 

“But I dropped you off at therapy when you found out?”  
  
“Yeah, and it happened that day. Or the night before. I don’t know.”

“Okay. I started taking you and Travis together in April - no, March, so… right around the time you got here, then.”

Awsten nodded. He took another Kleenex out of the box. 

“Why didn’t you want them to tell me?” Lucas asked carefully.

“Because I didn’t want to have to talk about it.” 

“Why?”

“Cause I don’t care that she’s dead.”

Hesitantly, Lucas pointed out, “You do seem to care a little bit.” 

“She was awful. I was scared of her. I hated her. I still hate her.” 

“That’s fair,” Lucas observed softly. 

“It’s fucking weird, though. She’s… I’m glad she’s gone. My dad, too. I don’t have to see him again, either. I’ll have Otto’s parents instead. They’re better.”

“I’m glad that you have them,” Lucas said.

“Me, too. I don’t know what I’d do without them. I don’t know what I would have done without them before, too. Like, my whole life.” He sagged, burying his face in his hands. “Why couldn’t they have just been my real parents?” 

“I wish for you that they could have been,” Lucas admitted. 

Awsten blew his nose again and crushed up the tissue in his hand. “Me, too,” he repeated. “But why am I scared to go home and live with them again?”

“Only you can find the answer to that.” 

“I think,” Awsten said slowly, his voice at a whisper, “that I just… like, what if they decide they don’t want me anymore? Like my parents did. What if they turn into my parents?” 

“Do you think that might happen?” 

“No, but… but it could.” 

“It could,” Lucas echoed. “You’re right. There is always a chance, but there are other things to remember, too. Like how much they care about you. And how they took you in repeatedly. And how they worry about you constantly.”

Awsten glanced up at Lucas.

“Your mom calls pretty often,” he explained with a small smile. 

He averted his eyes, looking down at the crumpled Kleenex beside him on the couch. 

“Awsten, if you could… outline your future after you leave here next week… what would it look like?”

“Quiet.”

Lucas’s eyebrows drew together.

“I just need quiet. Like here, but even quieter. Less busy. More… more like, relaxing, I guess. That sounds dumb, and I don’t want everything to be so out of control anymore. But I want to be, like, busy, but in a good way. Just not in a school way. I - this sounds stupid.”

“I don’t think it sounds stupid at all,” Lucas countered. “It’s good to think about finding your balance. It’s hard to be successful or happy without one.” 

“I’m just really tired,” Awsten admitted. “I’m just…” He began crying harder again, and he leaned forward on the couch and covered his face with his hands. 

Lucas was quiet, letting the flood of emotions crash out like a wave, and Awsten was grateful. 

“I’m sorry,” Awsten finally choked out. “I just can’t… stop.” 

“No, no,” Lucas said gently, “take your time. This is good, Awsten; you need this. Take your time.” 

Several minutes passed with Awsten sobbing and Lucas siting quietly in the desk chair across the room, listening to him cry. He didn’t check his email, didn’t look at his phone, didn’t glance at the clock. He just stared silently at the carpet, keeping Awsten company.

There was a quick knock at the door followed by, “It’s me.” 

“What’s up?” Lucas asked. 

“Can I come in?” 

Lucas looked to Awsten, who nodded and wiped at his eyes as best he could. 

“Yeah,” Lucas replied. 

Zakk poked his head in and said to Lucas, “Have you given that kid a hug?” 

Lucas sighed. “Zakk-”

“Oh, no, did I wake everybody up again?” Awsten asked sadly, and a soft sob bubbled out of his chest. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Zakk responded. He came into the office and closed the door, sinking down on the couch beside the boy with the faded purple hair and lightly jostling his shoulder. “How are you doing, huh? Are you okay?” 

Awsten shrugged and tried to smile, but the movement just made him feel worse. 

“Aw, dude,” he said sadly. “Can I hug you?” 

In lieu of answering, Awsten turned his body sideways and leaned into Zakk, reaching up to cling to his shoulders. 

“There you go,” Zakk hummed, wrapping his arms tightly around Awsten. “It’s okay, man. It’s okay. You just let it out, okay? That’s your job right now. You let it out.” 

It felt so good to be held - not just to have a hug, but to have someone actually sit beside him, focused solely on him, and get a good, tight hug at the same time. 

“I can’t believe you didn’t do this for him,” Zakk shot to Lucas.

“You know the rules,” Lucas replied tiredly. 

It was Awsten who spoke next. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” Zakk asked, pulling back a little. “Why would you be sorry?”

Awsten held up a hand and motioned to his face. “I’m…”

“You’re being very brave is what you are,” Zakk filled in when Awsten trailed off. 

“No, I’m not, I’m being-”

“Zakk’s right,” Lucas murmured. 

Awsten was quiet for a few seconds, but then the sobs started again. “Fuck,” he groaned through his tears. 

“No, shh, it’s okay,” Zakk assured, pulling Awsten back in and soothingly rubbing his back. “It’s okay.” 

“What’s wrong with me?” he demanded. “Why can’t I fucking stop?”

Lucas responded, “This is normal, Awsten. You’ve been through a lot, and your body-”

“Everyone keeps saying that!” Awsten exploded, but he didn’t sit up from the spot he was leaning on Zakk. “That it’s ‘normal’ for someone who’s been through what I’ve been through, and what I think and what I feel is ‘normal’ for _someone like me_. Well, I don’t want to be someone like me!”

Zakk didn’t speak, but he didn’t stop rubbing Awsten’s back, either. 

“Awsten-” Lucas began.

“I want to be someone else. Or I want to start over! I want a new family, and I want them to be nice to me, and I want to be better!” 

“I understand,” Lucas murmured. 

“That might be cool… but Awsten, you can’t start completely over, dude,” Zakk said quietly. “I’m sorry. But what you _can_ do is start fresh moving forward.” 

“We were just talking about that,” Lucas nodded. “We were talking about what his future might look like once he leaves here.”

“Oh, yeah?” Zakk asked. He looked down at Awsten, whose face was hidden in his shoulder. “Did you have any ideas?”

“He did,” Lucas confirmed. “Awsten, do you want to share?”

Awsten shook his head.

“Okay,” Lucas murmured. 

“You’ve got a lot going on, man,” Zakk told Awsten. “I know you do - I can hear it right now. And that’s okay. I know you’re scared, but that’s okay, too.”

Awsten wrapped his arms behind Zakk’s neck.

Something must have happened, because Zakk muttered, “Lucas, stop it,” Then - “Awsten - hey. Hey, shh…” 

“I don’t want to leave!” he pleaded. 

Lucas let out a low, sad chuckle. 

Embarrassed, Awsten sat up, his eyes on the floor. 

“He’s not laughing at you,” Zakk noted instantly. “He’s laughing because that’s what you guys start to say when it’s time to move on.” 

“I don’t want to,” Awsten repeated stubbornly. He pulled a clean tissue out of the box and blew his nose again. 

“You still have some time,” Lucas told him gently. “And you and I will make a plan on paper that’ll say where you'll go and list some ideas about what kind of things you’ll want to be doing. It’ll also remind you some ways to cope.” 

Awsten’s stomach filled with dread. “I don’t want to talk anymore.”

“Okay,” Lucas replied. 

“You sure?” Zakk checked.

Awsten nodded. 

“You did really, really well tonight,” Lucas told him. “Thank you for coming to get me.”

“I’m sorry,” Awsten muttered instead. 

“No. You did the right thing. I know it wasn’t easy, but it was right.” 

Awsten nodded. He wiped again at his wet cheeks. “My throat feels weird.” 

“We’ll get you some water,” Lucas said, and Zakk stood up to go fill a cup. 

Awsten sat quietly while they waited, still sniffling and letting out little hiccupy sobs every few moments. 

“Are you tired now?” Lucas asked knowingly. 

Tired and _drained_. Awsten nodded.

“Okay. You’ll get a good night’s sleep; Zakk and I won’t wake you up.” 

“Thanks,” Awsten whispered. 

Lucas nodded.

Zakk came back in with the glass and sat back down on the couch beside Awsten as he sipped at the water. 

Awsten felt a little strange and certainly underserving of having both Lucas and Zakk’s full attention, but it was comforting not to be alone in this mess of emotion. “Thanks for not hitting me,” he murmured.

Lucas and Zakk both spoke at the same time, but Awsten wasn’t really listening. He got to his feet, grabbed the used tissues and tossed them in the trash, and carried the glass of water out of the room.

“You sure you’re ready for bed?” Lucas checked.

“Yeah.” 

The three of them walked up the steps together, Awsten at the front, and the two counselors behind him. Awsten was planning to head straight into bed, but Lucas stopped him on the landing. 

“Here,” he said, holding a hand out for Awsten’s cup. 

Awsten passed it to him.

“If you need anything, come get us.”

“I know.”

“Okay. Goodnight.”

“Night, Awsten,” Zakk added.

“Night.” 

Awsten spent a moment in the bathroom, and when he came back out, he looked over into Jawn’s bed. Jawn was sound asleep, and Awsten breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe he hadn’t woken everyone up after all. 

He climbed under the covers and snuggled down into his pillow, exhaling deeply. He then leaned over, just enough to grab Oliver from underneath the bed, and relaxed back down into the mattress. 

Within moments, he sank into sleep.

 


	22. A Littmus Lozenge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow.  
> Hi.  
> I started this story last February, so I can't believe I just clicked "Add Chapter" on MIA for the final time. 
> 
> THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart for everything. Every hit on this story, every comment you've left, every message you've sent. Thank you for reading, thank you for waiting so patiently between chapters, and most of all, thank you for giving this story a chance. Without you and your endless support and encouragement, this would never have been finished.
> 
> I have loved creating this story more than I've loved creating anything I've ever created, and I feel like everyone says that, but WOW, isn't it a great feeling?  
> With that said... and taking into account that the last three hundred and ninety-two days have been MIA and I have loved every one of them, I just can't leave this behind.  
> The first (and very short) part of the sequel is up on my page right now. Once you're finished with this, please feel free to go click over there and see where we'll be going from here :) 
> 
> I LOVE YOU and THANK YOU and I hope that you enjoy the last chapter <3333 As always, please send me your thoughts over at miafic.tumblr.com!! I can't wait to hear from you.
> 
> With so much love and gratitude,  
> Aly

** Peace and Purpose Home for Young Men - Upstairs Bathroom  
May 24, 8:24 AM **

“Ugh, _fuck_!” Awsten exploded, staring angrily at his reflection in the mirror. He yanked mercilessly at the fabric around his neck, ready to just throw it on the floor and give up when Jawn walked in to intervene.

“Dude, stop. Stop.” 

“I can’t _do_ it!” Awsten spat exasperatedly.

“Clearly. Let go.”

Grudgingly, Awsten obeyed. 

Jawn undid the endless loops of nonsense Awsten had created, chuckling a little as he did so. “This is a disaster.”

“Shut up.” Awsten tilted his chin up a little as his roommate repositioned the tie around his neck and slipped it underneath his collar. 

“So,” Jawn began awkwardly, “are you excited?”

“No. It’s gonna be boring as hell.”

“Not about the ceremony,” Jawn snorted. “You’re graduating. That’s cool.” 

“Oh. Yeah, I guess. It’s kinda weird, honestly.” 

“Weird? I thought you’d be happy to be done with school.” 

Awsten started to shrug one shoulder but stopped himself in case it would mess Jawn up. “I am. But I kinda just… don’t know anything different.” _Don’t know where I’m going from here._

Jawn nodded.

“You’ll be happy when it’s your turn, though, right?” Awsten asked.

“If I graduate before my birthday, yeah. If not… I’m fucking screwed.” He laughed a little, but Awsten could hear that there was no amusement in his voice.

“You will.”

Jawn didn’t look up from where he was pulling the ends of the fabric across each other, but Awsten could see him purse his lips in disbelief. 

“Hey, you will. Lucas will make sure.” 

“I missed half of school every day for a whole month cause he made me go back to group,” Jawn reminded him without taking his eyes off of his work. 

“And you’re smart. You’ll finish soon.”

“I’m not smart.” 

“Yeah,” Awsten replied sarcastically, “and you suck at art, too.” 

Jawn smiled a tiny smile then. His fingers tugged at the thin side of the tie, and Awsten was suddenly able to understand what he was doing.

Accusingly, Awsten asked, “How do you know even how to do to this?”

“How to tie a tie?” Jawn asked flatly.

“Uh-huh.” 

“Everybody does - except you, apparently.”

Awsten humphed.

Jawn secured the knot and wiggled it up to Awsten’s neck. “I was raised Catholic, remember?” He patted the knot proudly and then finally looked up. “I’ve been able to do it since I was six.” 

“Show-off,” Awsten muttered as he turned to look into the mirror. 

Amiably, Jawn punched his arm.

“It looks good, though,” Awsten admitted.

Jawn grinned. 

“Thanks.” 

“Yeah, no problem.” Jawn studied Awsten’s reflection in the mirror. “Hey, you actually look kinda nice.”

Awsten smiled. He was about to say thank you when Jawn added, “You know, for once.” 

“Hey! You asshole,” Awsten laughed. 

 

* * *

 

_May 24, 2014_

_Graduation is, without fail, a special and highly emotional time at Lakeview High. It was true this year even more so than others, perhaps, because of what happened in March. We are without Michael, but all of our other students completed the year alive and well despite the brief period in time in which we thought that might not be possible._

_It was somewhat strange carrying on throughout the ceremony without even the slightest mention of Michael, but I suppose it was best not to upset the students and their families with the reminder on a day of celebration._

_I hope that they are alright. They seem much better now than they did in the weeks after the… attack (I am still unsure of how to refer to what took place), although I often experience instances that make me wonder if they are less well than they would have me believe._

_I have learned, however, that it is alright to ask questions; the students, and sometimes their parents, are typically glad that they have been asked. It seems so often that the children want desperately to speak with someone about their thoughts and emotions but are too afraid to ask. Or perhaps it is that they are afraid of what will happen if they do decide to speak. I began several conversations, and I must say, I am glad that I did._

_The small group of students that congregated in my room throughout the year grew steadily larger after the 5th, especially in April and May. I received frequent comments from the other faculty about it, but the words weren’t teasing or disapproving; in fact, they were actually quite the contrary. I never would have guessed that I would be able to connect with students in pain after such a traumatic event, but I suppose that the research’s findings are correct: we only need be brave enough to attempt to help, and the healing will come._

_I opened this journal to record my thoughts on graduation, but somehow it always comes back to the 5th, doesn’t it? Something tells me that that will be true for a while. Perhaps even longer than I expect._

_Alas, I digress._

_Abigail and Taylor were Valedictorian and Salutatorian respectively, which I am sure surprised no one. I do believe it bruised Taylor’s ego a bit to be named second, but if it did, she did not show it. I know that she was happy for her best friend. And in my opinion, her speech shone the brightest out of everything that happened during the ceremony. I found myself quite proud of her, which I was sure to tell her along with her mother and father, although I’m sure no one was prouder of her than they were. She has endlessly supportive and loving parents._

_Taylor will do well at Rice come fall. She has promised to correspond with me since I not only graduated from there but additionally wrote a recommendation letter for her. I do hope she’ll be alright without Abigail, who will attend Brown. I am sure that they both will go on to do incredible things._

_On a different note, it was nice to see Awsten back among all of his peers. It was especially wonderful to see him with Otto again. There was a sort of eruption when Awsten was noticed entering the holding room, and although Otto remained glued to his side, it seemed that every student ran to greet him. He must have been embraced more times that day than any other day of his life, and he did seem to enjoy the attention. He mentioned in an email to me in April that he was missing his friends, so I am glad that he was able to spend some time with them before they all disperse. (Fewer and fewer people remain in Lakeview, it seems. And more than half of this class is going on to college, which is wonderful. I am very proud to have taught nearly all of them at one time or another.)_

_Awsten made a point to come see me shortly after all the commotion regarding his entrance died down. Once he greeted me, he revealed that he had brought a gift for me. I was surprised and, honestly, flattered, especially since it sounds as though he was required to jump through many hoops to have it ready for this morning. I am sure that I will remember what it was, so I have decided to keep the contents of it to myself, but it is sitting on the table in my study, and I will be sure to begin it tonight._

_Another thing about Awsten (I suppose it is strange for me to go on about him, and about Taylor as well, but there are only thirty-one students in the senior class, and he has been absent for quite some time, and Taylor and I have much in common) -for someone with a family as small as mine, he brought quite the entourage along with him. Otto’s parents sat beside all of the members of Peace and Purpose. It was a nice surprise to run into them on a day I wasn’t expecting to see them; I do always enjoy being greeted by Travis. All of them stood to represent his family when his name was called, and he rewarded them with a very bright smile. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him - or Travis - look so joyful._

_Once the ceremony had concluded and I grudgingly stood for approximately four hundred and twenty-six photographs to be taken, John and I went to lunch at Duffy’s. (Most of the high school families, I believe, went into the city to eat, so despite the nice weather, the usually busy porch was nearly empty.) He asked about my plans for the summer, and I admitted to him that I do have some things lined up in the English department at Texas A &M over the break. He shared that he was simultaneously surprised and unsurprised and wished me well, and he was sure to tell me that he was interested in knowing how it unfolds. I must admit that it was nice to hear since people often pay no mind to how things are going for me. I will be sure to send him a few emails about it. _

_Well, I have been writing at such length that the sun has begun to set. I must complete this entry so I may go for my evening walk before it is dark. Tuna is (loudly) attempting to let me know that it is past time._

_Farewell for now._

 

* * *

**Peace and Purpose Home for Young Men - Entry**  
**May 25, 1:59 PM**

“Can it be just me today?” Awsten asked after his eyes landed on the book Mr. W was carrying.

Lucas opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Zakk said, “Sure, Awsten.” 

Awsten smiled gratefully. “Thanks.” Then he looked at Mr. W and motioned him toward the game room, which was where he spent most of his visiting time with Otto’s family. 

“Awsten, are you sure?” Lucas asked.

Awsten tried to ignore the disappointed faces of the other boys. “Yeah, I’m sure. Just for today.” And he and Mr. W disappeared into the room. Awsten left the door open, but he listened to make sure that no one came over to try to hear the story. No footsteps approached.

“Why just you?” Mr. W asked curiously as they settled side by side onto the lone sofa. 

Awsten drew his knees to his chest. “Cause this is the only book I ever liked before you started reading to me. It’s mine. Well - this one’s yours. But it’s also mine.” 

“And you’ve shared it with me,” Mr. W hesitantly observed. 

Awsten nodded, and that was that.

“Alright. I began it last night, but I stopped after just a bit because I wanted to bring it to read with you. I don’t know anything about it, and I could likely use your assistance.” 

“You've never read it?” Awsten asked in surprise. “I thought this was popular!”

“Oh, it is - most definitely. I think I read it once when I was very young, so I don’t remember it very well. I was rather stuck on some of Roald Dahl’s other works, you see, particularly George’s Marvelous Medicine and Matilda. Have you read them?”

Awsten shook his head.

“Oh, I think you’d really love George’s Marvelous Medicine.” Mr. W intoned, “It’s quite marvelous.” 

Awsten’s mouth formed half of a smile as he rolled his eyes. 

“Maybe next time,” Mr. W mused, but then he faltered. 

“Yeah, there’s no next time,” Awsten stated sullenly. 

“Well, we don’t know that. I told you that you were welcome to see Tuna, didn’t I? And you’re always welcome to come listen to a story. Or borrow a book, even, if you’d like. I am amassing quite the collection, and too many of them are merely collecting dust.”

“I like them most when you read them,” Awsten shrugged.

“Tea and reading, then.”

Awsten laughed and wrinkled his nose. “No tea for me.”

“Soda?” Mr. W suggested.

Awsten grinned. “That's more like it.”

Mr. W smiled and turned to the book. “Now. Shall we start at the beginning?”

“A very good place to start,” Awsten responded automatically. 

Mr. W chuckled. “It’s settled.” And he began to read. “Here is James Henry Trotter when he was about four years old. Up until this time, he had had a happy life, living peacefully with his mother and father in a beautiful house beside the sea. There were always plenty of other children for him to play with, and there was the sandy beach for him to run about on, and the ocean to paddle in. It was the perfect life for a small boy.”

Awsten scooted a little ways away this time so that his back was propped up against the couch’s arm rest. He drew his knees up and wrapped one arm around them, bringing the nails of his other hand up to his mouth to absently chew on as he listened. 

 

_Then, one day, James's mother and father went to London to do some shopping, and there a terrible thing happened. Both of them suddenly got eaten up (in full daylight, mind you, and on a crowded street) by an enormous angry rhinoceros which had escaped from the London Zoo. Now this, as you can well imagine, was a rather nasty experience for two such gentle parents. But in the long run it was far nastier for James than it was for them. Their troubles were all over in a jiffy. They were dead and gone in thirty-five seconds flat. Poor James, on the other hand, was still very much alive, and all at once he found himself alone and frightened in a vast unfriendly world._

_The lovely house by the seaside had to be sold immediately, and the little boy, carrying nothing but a small suitcase containing a pair of pajamas and a toothbrush, was sent away to live with his two aunts. Their names were Aunt Sponge and Aunt Spiker, and I am sorry to say that they were both really horrible people. They were selfish and lazy and cruel, and right from the beginning they started beating poor James for almost no reason at all. They never called him by his real name, but always referred to him as "you disgusting little beast" or "you filthy nuisance" or "you miserable creature," and they certainly never gave him any toys to play with or any picture books to look at. His room was as bare as a prison cell._

 

Awsten was quiet, taking in the story in the same way he had as a child. Nothing that happened at school had ever interested him nearly as much as when he was read the story of James, his bug friends, and their massive, rolling peach. 

Mr. W continued, chuckling here and there, gasping softly every once in a while, and sometimes pausing to make a brief comment or ask a question. 

And Awsten listened silently, fully absorbed, all the way through to the end. 

 

* * *

 

**Peace and Purpose Home for Young Men - Jawn and Awsten’s Room  
** **May 31, 8:15 AM**

“Good morning, gentlemen! Rise and shine!” 

Awsten blinked awake to the sound of Lucas’ voice and yawned, snuggling deeper into his pillow. Then he smiled sleepily as he realized what day it was.

“Happy birthday, Awsten,” Lucas hummed as he drifted into the doorway. 

Awsten lifted his head, still smiling. “Thank you.”

“Oh, yeah, happy birthday,” Jawn supplied.

“Thanks, man,” Awsten repeated. 

Lucas motioned for them to climb out of bed. “Get up and get ready for the morning, because we have a special breakfast today.” 

Awsten and Jawn looked at each other excitedly, and Awsten kicked the covers back and rushed into the bathroom to take his shower.

“Hey!” Ashton grinned a few minutes later as Awsten walked up to the sink. “Happy birthday, mate!” 

Awsten smiled. “Thank you.” He reached for his toothbrush and the communal toothpaste.

“Don’t forget to pack that,” Ashton said, nodding down at the toothbrush.

“Yeah, I won’t.”

It smelled heavenly downstairs, and Awsten quickly figured out that Zakk had gone and picked up hot cinnamon rolls.

“Good morning, birthday boy,” Zakk smiled, and he went over to Awsten to gently muss his hair. 

“Morning,” Awsten replied, ducking out of the way with a laugh. 

“Grab the drinks, please, Awsten,” Lucas directed.

“Okay.” Awsten was pleased to discover that in the fridge, there was a bottle of fresh orange juice. “Hey, Zakk?”

“What’s up?”

“You’re the best.” 

Zakk grinned at him over his shoulder. “Eh, it’s nothing.” 

After the delicious breakfast was devoured, he’d been sung a very loud and off-key rendition of Happy Birthday, and nothing but crumbs remained in the cinnamon roll box, Awsten followed Lucas into the office.

“Are you all packed up?” Lucas checked. 

“Uh-huh,” Awsten nodded.

“Alright. Here, come have a seat.”

Awsten hadn’t been in the office since his big meltdown the week before - in fact, he’d been avoiding the small space - so he felt a little strange as he sat down in the same spot on the couch. 

“How are you feeling?” 

Awsten shrugged. “Good.”

“Good?” Lucas echoed.

“Mm-hmm.” Awsten pulled his legs up onto the sofa and crossed them underneath himself.

“Is there anything you want to talk about before you go?”

“I don’t think so,” Awsten replied with a shrug.

“Alright. Well, Mr. Wood called; he’s on his way.” 

Awsten grinned. God, he was so close to going home. _So_ close.

“Which means that you and I have some business to attend to.” 

With a glance up at Lucas, Awsten swallowed. 

“I need you to sign some discharge papers, and then I’m going to tell you a story.” 

“Okay.”  A story? Awsten wondered if that was why Zakk had muttered to him earlier that he might want to find some tissues.

Lucas opened the top drawer of the desk, grabbed a black pen, and passed that and a clipboard to Awsten. 

Without reading the words, Awsten scribbled his name on the bottom line.

“Awesome.”

Awsten paused and looked at him confusedly. 

“You owe me a million dollars now,” Lucas deadpanned, pointing at the paper.

Awsten rolled his eyes and flipped the page on the clipboard.

“No?” Lucas asked, smiling a little. “Okay. But hey, at least glance at what you’re signing.”

“I did.” The lie tripped easily off of Awsten’s tongue as he initialed a blank and then scrawled his signature again a few paragraphs down.

“Okay.”

Once Awsten finished with all the papers, he passed the clipboard back to Lucas, who glanced through each page to make sure Awsten had filled everything out. Lucas signed his own name a few times, and then he sighed and sat back in his chair. “Alright. You are officially no longer a ward of Peace and Purpose.” 

Awsten smiled a tiny smile. As apprehensive as he’d been, that did sound pretty nice.

“Which means,” Lucas continued, “that now I can share something with you.” He set the clipboard on his desk. “Before every gentleman leaves this house, I tell them the story of a young man named Chance.” 

“Chance?” Awsten echoed.

“Yes. Chance. My best friend.” 

Confusion flickered across Awsten’s face.

“I met Chance in seventh grade at summer football practice.”

“You were a football player?” Awsten interrupted, amused.

“Yes. All through middle and high school.”

Awsten laughed.

“Chance was new to the area, and he and I just happened to stand next to each other one day during drills. I don’t really remember how we started talking to each other, but it doesn’t matter. Within twenty minutes, I had decided that he was my friend. And by the time school started, he and I were _best_ friends. We’d spent all summer at the pool in my back yard, at the movies, hanging together at football… He and I were inseparable. Honestly, my friendship with him reminds me a lot of yours with Otto.”

Awsten smiled.

“Chance was different, though, from other boys our age.”

Awsten’s head tilted to the side as he listened. 

“He didn’t always have clean clothes. His shoes never fit, and he never had money to do anything, and he always had a really strict curfew. Sometimes, later on, he came to school with bruises that he couldn’t really explain. He’d always have an explanation ready, but his stories never made sense.”

With an understanding nod, Awsten averted his eyes. He knew all about how that went.

“He started spending more and more time at my house, especially when we got into tenth grade. I don’t know what was going on with him - to this day, I still don’t know exactly - but he was having a really hard time. This was when the bruises started. He was always tired, and he was irritable a lot of the time and very stressed. He didn’t want to talk about anything other than school and football. I noticed him losing weight, and when I asked him about it, he was furious. He yelled at me, and then he didn’t speak to me for two days.” 

Lucas lifted a hand to his forehead and paused for a moment. After a deep breath, he put his hand back down and resumed speaking.

“My parents were fine with him hanging around; I have two sisters and a brother, so what was one more glass of milk to them, you know? There were four kids living there already, and despite Chance being newly… agitated, he was never rude to them.”  Lucas backtracked. “You have to understand - he was never mean to me. He seemed normal most of the time. I’m making it sound awful, but sincerely, most of the time, it was normal. He was always my best friend, and I never had any doubt about that.”

“I know.” And Awsten _did_ know. 

Lucas nodded, leaving it at that. “He was a little different at some times but normal most of the time, and I thought that was all there was to it… until one day he came over in the middle of the night. He showed up and knocked on the front door, out of breath and crying. He didn’t live anywhere close to me, and judging by the state of him, he had run all the way across town.”

Awsten swallowed.

“My dad opened the door, which meant that Chance had no choice but to explain himself, and that meant that there was a call made to the police. The whole story came out right there at the kitchen table. The that the people that I thought were Chance’s parents weren’t his real parents. It turned out he’d been living in a foster house for the three years I’d known him, but something happened with that family - I don’t know what - and he got placed in a new house. The family there was abusing him in multiple different ways. I didn’t even know he’d moved since he was still at the same school, but that explained the changes I’d seen in him. And all the cuts and bruises.” 

Lucas sighed. “His spirit was completely shot for about a week, because he was embarrassed and he thought that I was going to hate him for not telling me what was going. I wasn’t mad; I was just… confused. I thought that we knew everything about each other. But I understood why he’d kept it from me. Even then, I really understood how big of a deal it all was, and I was just glad that the truth had finally been revealed. It felt like I could help more then.” 

Lucas smiled emptily at the carpet for a moment. 

Awsten almost felt like he should say something or ask Lucas if he was okay, but right before he opened his mouth, Lucas resumed telling the story.

“Once my family and I knew what was going on, things got better for him. He got moved into another house; it wasn’t our house, but my parents were checking with him all the time to make sure that things were going alright. He and I got jobs that summer at a car wash so he could be busy and we could both have our own money to go bowling or get Taco Bell or whatever it was we did back then, although it turned out that his new foster parents were willing to help him out with that sort of thing. He started saving for college instead. And for the first time since I’d met him five years previously, he invited me over to his house.”

Awsten’s eyebrows rose. He couldn’t imagine inviting anyone over. Ever.

“Yeah,” Lucas smiled knowingly. “It was pretty crazy. But his new foster parents were nice and really respectful of him. He didn’t like to be touched, so they didn’t touch him unless he initiated it. I remember him telling me that they always made sure to include him in plans, even about little things like checking that he was okay with what they were making for dinner. He was really grateful for that. And he had two younger siblings in that house who were also foster children. We were in high school, but they were both in middle school - a girl and a boy. He liked them, too, and sometimes I would hang out with all three of them. They were…” He shook his head and smiled again, fondly that time. “They were funny.” 

“I’m glad things got better for him,” Awsten offered. He wasn’t exactly sure why Lucas was telling him about this guy.

“Well,” Lucas murmured, and then he paused again. “That’s what I thought, too.” 

Awsten could see the tears welling in Lucas’ eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Lucas said, smiling a little and waving a hand. “It’s been several years, but this is still… hard for me to talk about.” 

Awsten nodded even though he didn’t understand. 

“Chance lived with that family for the…” Lucas turned, pulled a tissue from the box on his desk, and dabbed at his eyes. “I never get through this without crying,” Lucas noted, seemingly unable to look directly at Awsten. “And that’s alright. Crying is healthy.” 

It sounded like Lucas was telling himself rather than Awsten. 

“Chance lived with them for the rest of high school, and he fell in love with everything about them. They loved him just as much. He started applying to colleges; we both did. He wanted to be a teacher. I wanted to be a football coach.” 

Awsten’s eyebrows shot up. “What?” he asked in surprise.

“I know,” Lucas agreed, laughing a little. “It must seem strange to you, but I really did love it. And look at me now - I’m still working with high school boys and kind of coaching you gentlemen in a way.” 

“True,” Awsten replied, shrugging one shoulder.

Lucas’ smile faded. “Chance’s birthday was in March. He had already gotten into two schools, and we were graduating in a few months. He’d started hanging around with this girl a lot, and he was happy. Everything was good. We were excited for the future, all that. But…” 

Lucas wiped his eyes again. “My siblings were home from college on a break, and I was really happy to have them all back since I was the last one left at home. I still had school during the day, but I got to hang with them at night. This one day during that week, Chance made a point of being extra nice to me. He and I sat outside and had lunch, and he insisted that it just be the two of us that day, because he wanted to talk to me. While we were eating, he kept saying all of these nice things, like how he was glad to be my friend and how he was thankful for everything my family had done for him, and he gave me some of his CDs. That was a big deal back then. And I… I laughed the whole thing off, because it made me feel uncomfortable. I do remember that I asked him if he was okay. He said yes.” 

Lucas bowed his head and covered his eyes. Awsten shifted nervously on the couch.

“We went to our last classes,” Lucas continued, not lifting his head, “I went home to be with my family, and… well, the phone rang that night. Really late, way past the time it was appropriate to call. My mom answered it anyway, and she came and woke me up, and she told me that…” Lucas’ voice broke. “Chance had passed away…”

Awsten’s mouth fell open.

“I don’t remember much of that night,” Lucas admitted, tugging a new tissue out of the box, “but I do remember that somehow, I ended up on the floor of my bedroom. And I remember my family all standing around me, not sure what to do, but my oldest sister laid down on the ground next to me and held my hands while I was crying.” 

“What happened?” Awsten asked.

“He ended his life. He’d been planning it for a while, it turned out… I had no idea. No one did. He’d started showing the signs, but I didn’t learn them until two years after he had gone. But the point of this is that...” Lucas sighed. “It was six days before his eighteenth birthday. He was…” 

Lucas turned away for a moment. 

Sadly, Awsten waited. 

“He left a note, I’m told. I never read it, but eventually my parents told me that he ended things because he thought that he was going to be completely on his own after graduation. His foster parents had talked to him about adoption several months before but never again. I don’t know if he thought that they’d forgotten about it or changed their minds, but he decided that he wasn’t getting adopted, and he was terrified of being alone again when he’d finally found a group of people that he thought accepted him. So he decided not to face it. He decided to end his life. And what he didn’t know was that there was-” He stopped to let out a quiet sob. 

“Lucas, you don’t have to tell me any more,” Awsten offered quietly.

“No, I need you to know,” he insisted. “I need _everyone_ to know. Chance’s parents had wrapped his presents already. They got him a new pair of shoes, some stuff to take to college, and in the last box, there were adoption papers.” 

Awsten covered his mouth. 

Lucas nodded, two tears leaking down from his eyes. “I know,” he said, just like he had earlier when Awsten had reacted, but his voice was broken this time. “I know. I didn’t tell you this story to make you upset. I told it because I need you to understand that you never know what things are waiting for you. There are good things around every corner. And if they had just _communicated_ ,” Lucas growled, fire coming out in his tone, “this whole thing could have been avoided.” 

Awsten nodded.

“I know that Chance was afraid, and he was in pain, so he didn’t feel like he could speak up. And I know that his family wanted to surprise him, so they stayed quiet, too. But this was too important. If you feel bad, you tell someone. Okay?” 

“Kay,” he replied seriously.

“No, promise me, Awsten. If you ever want to hurt yourself, or you start thinking that you want to end your life, or anything like that, I need you to let somebody know. In words. Tell someone who can help you, and I promise, you won’t regret it.”

“Okay,” Awsten whispered. 

“Do you promise?”

“I promise.” 

“Good,” Lucas stated. “And if that someone is me, then so be it. You call. Anytime. We will answer the phone. And if we don’t, you just keep keep calling back until we do.” 

Awsten nodded.

Lucas paused for a bit. Then he said, “I told Otto about Chance a few months ago. Do you know what he said to me when I finished the story?” 

Awsten shook his head.

“He said, ‘He was your Awsten.’”

Awsten’s lips twisted.

Lucas got up and went to sit on the couch beside him. “You know that he loves you, right? You know that he and his family never, ever want to see you hurt?” 

Awsten nodded, his eyes filling up with tears. 

“Do you know that Mr. W cares about you? And Travis, and Ashton, and Jawn? Do you know that Zakk and I care?”

He nodded again.

“Awsten, look at me. Look at me.” 

Awsten obeyed. 

“Don’t you ever, _ever_ do what Chance did.”

“I won’t,” Awsten whispered. 

“He made a mistake. It was the biggest mistake he could have made. We miss him every single day. His family - and mine - have never been the same. And at the same time…” Lucas exhaled heavily. “Here’s the part where I have to be very careful with what I say.” He brushed a stray blonde hair behind his ear. 

“Because of what Chance did… my entire life changed. I became a different person, went to a different college… I found God. I chose a completely different path than I would have had he still been alive. We always joked that we wanted to work at the same school - me coaching, him teaching. Best friends forever and all that. But that was gone, and suddenly, I didn’t want to be a coach anymore. I wanted to step in and help kids like him. Normal kids who got dealt a bad hand and needed a place to stay, a person to encourage them. I didn’t want one more family to go through what his went through, and I didn’t want any more kids feeling like he did or making the call that he made. I didn't want any kids out there like me to have to lose their best friend to suicide.

“So I went to school, which is where I met Zakk. From there, we went to grad school and got degrees in psychology. We built this house from the ground up,” Lucas said, motioning around the tiny office. “You are our ninth gentleman. _Nine boys_ have been pulled out from wherever they’ve been and sent here. God willing, they’ve been helped, and they’re better off because of it. That’s all because of Chance. I guarantee you, this house would not exist without him and that mistake he made. And that has been the hardest thing for me to wrap my head around. Every day, I wish I could take back what he did. Every day, I wish I could have done something, said something, told someone, changed his mind. And every day, I’m grateful for what I do, working face to face with you gentlemen and hopefully helping and making a difference.”

“You do.”

“What?” Lucas asked, blinking as he was pulled from his monologue.

“Help.” Awsten wrapped his arms around his own stomach. “You help a lot.” He looked up at Lucas. “You help all of us.”

Lucas smiled softly. “Thank you, Awsten.”

He nodded.

“You are going to be okay. I know you’re anxious about leaving, but don’t give up before you even start. Things are going to work out for you, too. I have faith in that.” 

“What if they don’t?” Awsten whispered. 

Lucas set a hand on Awsten’s shoulder. “They will. Maybe not immediately, and maybe not in the way you’re expecting, but you will find the right path, Awsten, not matter what might happen along the way. I promise.” 

Awsten took a deep breath in and slowly exhaled it out. His eyes fell shut. Then a pair of arms wound around him, and his eyes snapped back open in surprise. 

“You are resilient, Awsten. And you’re not alone.” 

Awsten reached up to hug Lucas around the neck.

Other than the sound of the air conditioner humming, the office was quiet.

“I’m gonna miss you,” Awsten confessed quietly into Lucas’ shoulder. 

He could hear the slight smile in Lucas’ voice when Lucas replied, “I’m gonna miss you, too.”

 

* * *

**Peace and Purpose Home for Young Men**  
**May 31, 10:24 AM**

It was only a little while later when the doorbell rang. Awsten bolted up from his spot on the couch in the office and to the door. He waited while Lucas unlocked it, and then Awsten moved out onto the front step to throw his arms around Mr. Wood’s stomach. 

“Oh - hi!” Mr. Wood chuckled. He patted Awsten on the back. “Hey, son.” 

“Hi.” Awsten squeezed him tighter and then let him go. 

“Happy birthday.”

Awsten quickly looked at the ground. “Thanks.”

Ashton and Jawn spilled hurriedly out of the school room, and while Mr. Wood and Lucas began a conversation, Awsten drifted over to them. 

“You’re really leaving?” Ashton asked sadly. 

Awsten nodded. “Yep. All packed up.” He motioned to his bag on the floor. “Toothbrush and everything.”

Ashton smiled a little. “Don’t go,” he pleaded, and they shared an embrace. 

“Listen to me,” Awsten said into Ashton’s ear. “You are the nicest dude I know. You’re gonna find a great family who’s gonna love you and take care of you. And you can still love them without replacing your first family.” 

“Thanks, mate,” Ashton responded softly. “I’ll miss you.” 

Awsten nodded and pulled back. “I’ll miss you, too.”

Jawn stepped forward. “I made you this,” he blurted, his cheeks red as he bashfully shoved a large piece of paper into Awsten’s hands. 

“Wh- Jawn, oh my g _od._ ” Awsten looked up from the portrait to his roommate. “This is - this should - you need to put this in a _museum_. I can’t keep this!” 

“Well, when I’m famous, you can sell it for five million dollars,” Jawn joked halfheartedly. “How’s that?” 

“Nah, man, I’m not gonna fucking sell it.” He reached forward to tug Jawn into his arms, but he was careful not to crumple the drawing. “Thank you. I love it. You’re so fucking good. When did you even make this?”

Instead of answering, Jawn whispered, “I don’t want a new roommate.” 

“We hate each other,” Awsten countered with a laugh.

Jawn’s response was serious. “No, we don’t.”

Awsten let go of him and smiled. “No, we don’t,” he agreed. “Not anymore.” 

Jawn nodded and kept his eyes down.

“Hey,” Awsten said, nudging him with his knee. 

Jawn tried to smile. 

“Whoever you get can’t be worse than me, right? I literally punched you.” 

“Shut up,” Jawn muttered, and he pulled Awsten back in for another hug. “I don’t want you to go.” 

“I’ll come back.”

“That’s what everybody says,” Ashton murmured, and Awsten could see tears shining in the youngest boy’s eyes. 

“I will.” Awsten looked between them, and his stomach started to ache. He’d lived with them for eighty-two days, and now was leaving. And he might never see them again. “I will. I’ll come back. I…” He could feel himself choking up. “I don’t want to leave you guys, either.” 

Ashton started to quietly sob, and then Awsten followed suit, which prompted Jawn to begin crying as well. 

“Uh-oh,” Lucas hummed softly. 

“Awsten?” Travis asked, and Awsten looked up to see Travis peeking out the door. “Why are you crying?” 

“I’m leaving,” he explained, a fresh pang of sadness hitting him as he realized that he was about to have to say goodbye to his favorite part of Peace and Purpose. 

“Leaving? What time are you coming back? Lunch? Or before then?”

Awsten passed Jawn’s paper to Mr. Wood before it got ruined and went over to see Travis by the school room door. “I don’t know when. A long time.”

“Like a whole day?” Travis asked with wide eyes. 

“Longer,” Awsten replied, his voice breaking. “A lot longer.”

“He’s leaving like how Calum left,” Ashton explained gently, and Travis suddenly understood.

“No!” he cried, looking at Lucas. 

“Travis,” Lucas began gently, but Travis let out another anguished, “No!” and threw his arms around Awsten’s back as if it would keep him there. 

“T,” Zakk said loudly, jogging down the stairs, “we talked about this, bud, remember? It’s okay.” 

“You’ll get to have a new friend,” Awsten supplied, but his eyes were burning with tears. 

“I don’t want a new friend! I want _you_!” 

“I know, Trav.” He began to weakly cry. “I’m gonna miss you the most. But you and me, we’re gonna stay friends. I promise. Cause we’ve got to do our hair together, right?” 

“Pink?” Travis asked, his voice wobbling.

“Yeah, pink. I’ll show you how, and then we’ll match. It’s gonna be-” He sniffed. “-awesome.” 

“Don’t go away,” Travis pleaded, and his bottom lip trembled dangerously.

“No, don’t cry, don’t cry,” Awsten begged, but it was too late. 

Travis burst into tears, and Awsten hugged him as tightly as he could. 

“Shh, it's okay. It's okay. There's a letter for you upstairs from me that you get to keep forever. Zakk has it right now, but it's yours.”

“Can't you stay forever instead?” Travis pleaded.

Awsten let out a soft sob. “I wish I could.”

“Don't go away!”   


“He didn’t do this when Calum left,” Ashton muttered sadly. 

“Yeah, I was the only one,” Jawn admitted. 

“I love you!” Travis sobbed urgently. 

“I love you, too, dude. But I’m coming back. I promise I’ll come visit. I mean it.” 

“We can drive you,” Mr. Wood offered. 

Awsten nodded at him in thanks. He held onto Travis until he calmed a little, and then he turned back to the other boys. “I’ll come see you really soon.” 

“You better,” Jawn demanded. 

“I will.” 

The next thing Awsten knew, he was being surrounded in a group hug. He shut his eyes, his stomach twisting in sadness again. 

When the boys finally let go of Awsten, Zakk said, “Okay, me now.”

Awsten went straight to him, and they threw their arms around each other. “I’m scared,” Awsten breathed into his ear. 

“I know. And that’s okay. You call us if you need us, yeah? You know we’re here twenty-four seven.” 

Awsten nodded. “Lucas already made me promise.” 

They untangled themselves, and Zakk added, “Well, I’d like you to promise me, too.” 

“I promise.” 

Zakk nodded and then ruffled his hair. “I’ll miss you, big bear.” 

Awsten tried to smile. 

Lucas was last, standing off to the side watching. Awsten went over to him and, without an ounce of hesitation, rested his head against Lucas’ chest. He shut his eyes. “I promise I’ll call.” 

Lucas embraced Awsten again. “Be brave,” he instructed quietly, “but not too brave.” 

“I’ll try.” 

The hug felt tighter for a second, and then Lucas let go. “There’s one more thing.” 

“What?” 

Lucas held out a purple Sharpie and nodded toward the wall. 

_When you pass through the waters,  _  
_         I will be with you; _  
_ and when you pass through the rivers, _  
_         they will not sweep over you. _  
_ When you walk through the fire, _  
_         you will not be burned; _  
_         the flames will not set you ablaze.  
Isaiah 43:2 _

Awsten hadn’t really read it since the day he’d gotten there. Underneath it, there was the same collection of handwritten names. They were names that didn’t mean anything to Awsten, and one day, his name wouldn’t mean anything to the boys occupying these walls or even the ones who would sleep in his bed, but for now, his name mattered. To Jawn and Ashton and Travis, it mattered. And it would matter to Lucas and Zakk long after he’d gone.

Awsten uncapped the Sharpie, went over to the wall, and crouched down. He grinned as he wrote the A. “I feel like I’m doing something illegal,” he admitted, and everyone laughed. 

W

S

He ran the back of his wrist over his wet cheeks.

T  
  
“Don’t spell it wrong,” Zakk joked.

“Shh,” Awsten smiled, “I’m concentrating.”

E

N

Awsten stood back up up and spent a moment admiring his work. AWSTEN, the wall read in purple. It was small but bold, just like him. He handed the marker back to Lucas and walked back over to Mr. Wood, who already had Awsten’s black duffle bag on his shoulder. “You ready, son?” 

Awsten started to say yes, but he paused and turned to look at all the boys and their red eyes. They were crying because of him. Because he was leaving. Because they would actually miss him once he was gone. 

They _cared._

Awsten let out a sad noise and rushed back to them, and they all threw their arms around him simultaneously. A small chorus of heartbroken sobs filled the room.

A moment later, Lucas went over and disentangled Awsten from the group. “He promised to come visit,” Lucas reminded them. 

“I love you guys,” Awsten told them all. 

They all responded at the same time, so Awsten couldn’t really make out any of the words they’d said, but he felt them anyway. 

With a small wave and one last word of thanks to Lucas and Zakk, Awsten and Mr. Wood went through the door and headed down the driveway to the car. 

It felt strange to be leaving, but Awsten didn’t allow himself to look back at the house as he walked away. It would only hurt more. 

He climbed up into the front seat of Mr. Wood’s big pickup truck as Mr. Wood loaded his bag into the backseat. Awsten watched to be sure that Jawn’s artwork was laid carefully in a place where it wouldn’t get wrinkled, and then they were off. 

Country radio played through the speakers instead of KSBJ, and Awsten smiled a little as he dried his cheeks with the sleeve of his t-shirt. He wasn’t a big fan of country, but it was better than that cheesy religious stuff Lucas had on nonstop. 

“So,” Mr. Wood said as they turned from the paved neighborhood onto the gravel road. “That was pretty tough to watch. You okay?” 

Awsten nodded with one last sniff. “Yeah.” 

“Okay.” He fished into his pocket. “I brought you something. Otto charged it last night, and he made sure twice before I left that I had it.” 

“What?” 

Mr. Wood pulled out Awsten’s cell phone, and Awsten’s eyes lit up.

“Thank you!” he cried, grabbing the cheap piece of plastic. “I’m gonna text Otto right now!”

With a smile, Mr. Wood replied, “Good.” 

Awsten was quiet for the next thirty minutes, messaging happily back and forth with his best friend. He barely even noticed when Mr. Wood pulled off the road and into a parking space at a gas station.

“I’m gonna go in and get a drink,” Mr. Wood declared. “Do you want anything? Sprite?” 

“No, thanks.” 

“Orange juice?” he asked knowingly, one eyebrow cocked.

Awsten smiled. 

“Alright. One orange juice coming right up.” He was back a few moments later, and he passed Awsten the bottle with a, “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you.”

They clinked the necks together the way he’d taught Awsten to when he was little, and then Awsten cracked the lid open and took a drink. 

“Ugh, fuck, this is so good.” 

Mr. Wood chuckled. “Don’t let Mom hear you talk like that today.” 

Awsten’s eyes went wide as he swallowed. “Oops.” 

“It’s fine.” 

Mr. Wood turned the car back on, and they started back on the main road.

“We’re almost home,” Awsten realized.

“Uh-huh.” 

He was quiet for a moment. “Um, can I talk about something really quick?”

“Sure, son.”

“You don’t even have to say anything, but, um.” He took a sip of his juice. “I’m happy I’m coming back to live with you guys - and thank you for letting me, by the way.”

“Of course.”

“But I’m also kinda sad to leave Peace and Purpose. I liked it there.” 

Mr. Wood nodded. 

Awsten drummed his fingers against the side of the bottle. “I just... didn’t realize that they were like my family until a couple days before I left. And I wish I had thought about that earlier so I could have, like. I don’t know. Enjoyed it more.” 

“I understand,” Mr. Wood murmured.

Awsten didn’t really think he did, but at least he’d listened. “You’ll really let me come back and see them?” Awsten asked hesitantly. “It’s okay to say no-”

“Hon, of course we’ll take you to see them. Your mom adores Lucas. And that Travis boy.”

Awsten’s eyebrows shot up. “Lucas?”

“Oh, yes. She has nothing but good things to say about everybody in that house.” Mr. Wood smiled at him. “Especially you. We’d do anything for you; you know that.” 

Awsten’s phone buzzed again with another text from Otto, this one excitedly asking where they were on the road. 

_Close to home. I’ll see you soon. Cant fucking wait_ , Awsten replied. But when he looked back up, Mr. Wood was driving the car in a different direction than Awsten had expected. “Uh… where are we going?” he wondered.

“I was gonna make a quick detour if that’s alright with you.”

“Oh… okay,” Awsten lied. He sat quietly in the passenger seat, watching out the window and trying to determine where they were going. “Wait, there’s nothing out here but the…”

“The lake?” Mr. Wood smiled. He drove a few more feet and then parked his pickup in the grass. There were a few other cars and some bikes there, too, and Awsten’s eyebrows drew together in confusion.

“Come on,” Mr. Wood directed, getting out of the truck. As soon as he opened the door, Awsten could hear [music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E-SeaCZE2TM) playing. He abandoned his orange juice in the cupholder and scrambled out of the truck after Mr. Wood and over the familiar, grassy hill. 

Near the water was a table covered in food, a set of speakers, a small gaggle of people, a hanging rainbow of letters that spelled out HAPPY BIRTHDAY!, and-

Awsten gasped. “Otto!” he cried, running full speed down the little hill.

“AAH!” Otto yelled back, and he dashed toward him. 

The pair crashed roughly into each other, the force of it sending them toppling sideways into the grass. Awsten laughed wildly as Alex hopped on top of them. 

“Happy birthday!” Alex cried, and Awsten wiggled an arm out from underneath Alex to wrap it around him instead. 

“Oh, fuck, I missed you guys,” Awsten sighed contentedly under their weight. 

“You’re home!” Otto shouted, even though his face was barely six inches from Awsten’s. 

“I know,” he laughed, wincing at the volume. “It’s good to be back.” 

Alex sat up, and Otto and Awsten followed suit. 

“We got you pizza and goldfish and cake and ice cream,” Otto listed as he stood and then pulled Awsten to his feet. They brushed off, and then Awsten hopped onto his back.

“Onward!” Awsten commanded. “To the food!” 

“Aye-aye, sir!” Otto replied in a goofy voice, and he started running through the grass over to the folding table. 

“Hey, sweeties,” Mom smiled warmly. 

Awsten hopped down from Otto’s back and went over to give her a big hug. “Thanks, Mom. You didn’t have to do all this.”

“We wanted to. Happy birthday, baby.” 

He blushed. “Thanks.” 

“Oh, I missed you, honey. I'm so glad you're back for good.” She put her hands on his cheeks and kissed his forehead. “Help yourself to the food, okay? We got all your favorites. Even Superman ice cream.” 

“What?!” he gaped, yanking back.

She smiled. “It’s in the cooler.”

“No! _Mom_!”

“What?”

“You have to go all the way to Houston for that!”

“I know.” 

“You already threw me a whole party! You didn’t have to do that!”  


“I wanted to, baby. Besides, it’s your birthday, and I know how much you-” 

He threw his arms around her neck, interrupting with, “Thank you! I love you so much.”

She laughed and squeezed him tightly. “I love you, too.” 

As they broke apart, Awsten noticed Mr. W standing off to the side watching. The teacher smiled at him and then began walking toward them, and Awsten told Mrs. Wood, “I’m gonna go say hi to him.”

“Okay, honey.”

Awsten jogged toward Mr. W, and when he got up to him, he just stopped and simply said, “Hi.” 

“Hello, Awsten. Happy birthday.” 

“Thanks! Um, thank you for coming. I didn’t actually know this was happening, but I’m glad you’re here.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it,” Mr. W assured. He held out a small, rectangular package wrapped in diagonally striped paper. “I brought this for you. Your mother has a gift table set up, but I wanted to be sure to give it to you myself.”

“Thanks,” Awsten said, looking curiously down at it. “Should I open it now?”

“If you’d like.”

Awsten ripped into the paper, tearing it right down the middle. He recognized the present as one of the Harry Potter books. “Cool. Thank you.”

“That’s the first one,” Geoff told him softly. “I wasn’t sure if you’d read it before, but I thought-”

“Thank you,” Awsten repeated, and he moved forward for a quick hug. “I haven't. I’ll bring it by when I come see Tuna?” he suggested hopefully.

Geoff gave him a warm smile. “That sounds wonderful.” 

Awsten grinned at him. 

Soon, the small group of guests gathered around the table to sing Happy Birthday. Mr. Wood lit the candles - a 1 and an 8 - and Awsten squeezed his eyes shut and made a wish. Everyone clapped, and he bowed dramatically. 

Mrs. Wood cut the cake while Mr. Wood passed out ice cream and plastic silverware. Awsten went to sit in the grass and eat with Alex, Otto, and the other few kids who’d been invited while Otto’s parents stayed off to the side, chatting with Mr. W. 

“I’m gonna go get more Sprite,” Awsten declared a few minutes later. “Does anybody want anything?” 

“Coke,” Alex answered through a mouthful of cake. 

“Okay.” Awsten jogged over to the table with his empty cup and Alex’s, and he smiled widely at the adults. “Thanks again for doing this. It’s perfect.” 

“Oh, you’re welcome, baby,” Mom replied. 

“Are you having a nice birthday?” Mr. W asked. 

Awsten stared too intently at the drinks that he was pouring. He was having a great party, but this morning had been tough. “Yeah. But it’s…” 

Mr. W looked at him with a curious expression on his face.

There was a burst of laughter from Awsten’s friends and then Otto called, “Aws, come here! You’ve gotta see this!”

“It’s a Littmus Lozenge,” Awsten finally explained to Mr. W.

Mr. and Mrs. Wood looked confused, but Mr. W nodded knowingly. “I see.”

“Awsten!” Otto called again. 

Awsten started away but smiled back at the adults over his shoulder before jogging away again.

 

* * *

**Otto's Room**  
**May 31, 10:48 PM**

Later that night, the boys said goodnight to their parents, brushed their teeth, and climbed into the bunk beds. 

They talked for a little while, but Otto had some new sleeping meds, and Awsten was tired from his long day, so both of them began drifting off to sleep fairly quickly. Awsten’s mind drowsily zigzagged from thought to thought, and it occurred to him that he wasn’t at Peace and Purpose anymore. Suddenly, he felt fully awake.

“Otto?” he asked sharply. 

“Yeah?” came the groggy response. 

Awsten opened his eyes, glanced at the underside of the top bunk, and smiled. “Just checking.” 

“Yeah. I’m still here.” 

 

THE END


End file.
